


Dead Man's Bike

by Fionnalina



Category: The Long Walk - Richard Bachman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fionnalina/pseuds/Fionnalina
Summary: Stebbins had one simple job, and then he would be on his way to Maine, but the nightrider kid was really getting to him.
Relationships: Art Baker/Stebbins
Comments: 16
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Baker sat in the middle, on the warm worn out wood of the barn’s floor he and the rest of the guys always met up in, the rest were speaking about the next hit, they would go out and steal from the nearest inn. He looked to the others, everybody had their face covered, everybody knew each other over here.

Baker looked out the window, it would be night soon, nights were always so dark.

“Hands up!” A voice rang, and the doors of the barn shot open.

Squad Members swarm the place in a matter of seconds, the sound of their footsteps in unison, wielding their guns mechanically, the yelling only got louder.

“To your knees! Hands up!” Baker couldn't process the orders, the guys got up and ran to the back of the barn, he felt his legs moving but he couldn't tell where, the sound of his heartbeat deafening him.

“To your knees! Hands up!” The order seemed to come directly at him, Baker couldn't distinguish if it was, he turned back, they were shooting now, the sound of the bullets was ringing in his ear, he heard screaming down the back, he recognized the voice, he recognized the smell of his blood. 

“Down!” He came into view, Baker was sure he was speaking to him now, he looked far smaller than any of the others, he looked far more like him than any of the others. The voice ran towards him, rifle aimed at him.

“Art!” Someone grabbed his elbow, he blinked the sound, his inner throbbing gone in an instant, he turned back and ran down.

His feet touched against the wood, he stepped on it and it broke down, he greeted the darkness, there were no lights on their underground tunnels.

He ran without a need to look, kicking small pebbles on his way, the dirt and dusk raising and getting into his eyes, he felt the need to gasp out for air, and to scream, but he knew he couldn't do that now unless he wanted all of them to get caught.

They ran down the tunnel for what felt like hours, they ran until they couldn't hear the shooting anymore, and then they kept running until his feet felt red, underneath the fine layer of clothing that was his done-in shoes, brown, and scrapped off, he could tell where the holes were without even having to look down at them, he had had them for way too long, they barley fitted him anymore.

They finally stopped sliding down to the only place where the moonlight was entering the exit, it was a small wood square inconspicuous enough in the middle of nowhere, they would have to help each other get to it and remove it to get out.

Baker let his back slam against the dirt wall, breathing in and out heavily, the other guy was doubled over, both hands on top of his knees, breathing with his tongue out like a dog. 

Their breathings filled the space and silence around them until the guy swallowed down straightening up, he approached Baker and hit him with his closed fist on the back of the head, Baker yelped.

“What was that for?” Baker said, rubbing the spot the other guy had just hit.

“What was that for?” The other guy said, putting up a dumb voice “You are crackbrained.” 

“Why?” He felt his voice becoming sharper, the other guy was older than him.

“Why!? You almost got shot! Why wasn’t you running!?”

“I...” Baker thought back at it, he hadn’t run because he had panicked, he had finally tasted the real danger everybody had warned him of, the danger he had insisted he would know how to take head-on, and he had frozen, he had looked at the prospect of death, of his own one on that Squad’s rifle and it had terrified him, he had always thought he would know better by now “I…. am sorry.”

“Ya idiot! Why do I need your sorry for? Better let's get out of here already, we need to check if the rest are alright” The guy sighed, he got on his knees and put his hands out for Baker to climb and get to the top “Tho I guess I can't be that mad at you, it was your idea to set up this underground tunnels, after all, Lord knows we wouldn't have made it without them.”

“Thanks” Baker felt a little ashamed, it hadn't really been his idea, he had read it in a book he had stolen one time they raided the library, and he had thought it was a viable thing they could do, in reality, the other guys did most of the physical job that time, or at least Baker felt like they did.

Baker carefully put his foot in the middle of his palms and removed the block, he jumped and held himself off the edges of dirt and rocks to the other side, he extended his hand to the other guy to get him up. They looked to themselves, they had gotten some small cuts on their bodies while going through the tunnel.

“C’mon, let's hurry, we don't want to lose that angel face of yours.”

“Uh?” Baker said the guy passed a thumb through the right side of his face near the eye, Baker did the same, his finger came out with dark blood and dirt, it was starting drip down his face. 

“We gotta go before it gets infected” The guy said, Baker nodded.

“Yah. Let's get going.”

* * *

“You left them get away” The Major’s voice boomed in all of their ears, The Squads stood in a perfect line, out in their training ground standing in the center of their cement esplanade, hands behind their back, their posture straight and their faces expressionless.

“Why, did you let them get away?” The voice came to all of them through the speaker devices ingrained into their helmets, Stebbins tuned the screaming out.

Their Commander spoke for all of them, he hadn't even been in that mission, he was only pretending to be able to give an excuse, Stebbins kept his eyes fixated on the ground, imagining The Major pacing around in front of them, he knew Their Commander was afraid, the whole room was afraid even though none of them were designed to still feel that way. They had failed.

They had failed a simple mission hunting down a bunch of nightriders, most of the guys in the barn hadn’t been even eighteen and they had gotten away, that kid had gotten away from him in the blink of an eye, that kid had looked even younger than he was, his rifle had jammed, all the money in the country and they couldn't bother to buy and maintain proper guns.

The Major quieted for a second pretending to listen to whatever Their Commander had said. 

The Major chuckled for a moment, Stebbins could almost feel the wind of his words on his ears “Go. And get them. I want them alive” Stebbins mentally agreed the <<Or else>>

Their Commander apologized again, Stebbins thought that maybe, The Major never came to them because he knew if he did Their Commander would get his pristine black shoes soiled with his drool trying to lick them clean. 

The Major said something else, then cut off communication. The room seemed able to breathe again though, of course, none of them physically relaxed. Their Commander was back at his usual proud stance, throwing orders left and right, Stebbins couldn't understand the power his father had over all these men, how he could so easily shapeshift them by his mere presence, or lack of.

“I'm going too” Stebbins said to Their Commander, they all wore their pokerfaces like second nature but Stebbins could still see underneath it, the expression of shock and offense, Their Commander always reacted this way, like it still was the first time.

“Thought you were going to take off to Maine already?” Their Commander didn't mean for it to sound like a joke but it did.

“I want to catch this kid” That boy who had disappeared like he was going down the rabbit hole, he needed to catch that one, he could go to Maine still, he would catch that kid and be back in time, he was sure of it.

Their Commander looked at him in the eyes, trying to dig anything and failing like always, maybe he thought by now that Stebbins didn't have anything inside of him, his eyes seemed to think so.

“Fine, get on the truck with the others, you should be there by tomorrow morning.”

“I know.”

* * *

Stebbins sat on the left extreme of the metal bench they had inside the armored vehicle, Stebbins felt the boulders underneath the wheels bumping them up and down, he smelled the scent of newly rained-on grass outside, the day was barley setting in.

They came to a stop in front of the barn just like last time. Stebbins looked at the differences between now and that night, the barn had always been poor, the painting barely holding up together, but presently it was completely wrecked, they had slammed the door open with a battering ram, there were parts of the broken down wood all over the ground now.

Some of the other members stayed outside looking at the ruptured parts, waiting for his instructions. 

Stebbins went inside, he walked to the place he had seen that kid in, he stood before it, tawdry wooden plaques around it, still covering it a little, Stebbins kicked them out of the way, they cranked and snapped beneath his foot, the full manhole came into view, the darkness inside it seemed overtaking, even though Stebbins already knew it couldn't be too deep.

“What do we do, Sir?” One of the Squads approached him, Stebbins was irritated by his voice.

“Vigilate the area. Find them. Don't shoot. We need them alive” Stebbins said “I will do this.”

The Squad Member looked down at the hole and back at him “Roger, Sir” He nodded and went back to his group.

Stebbins jumped down the hole, his feet slamming down and bringing up the wet smell of dirt, his boots stained with the mud he walked on, there were no lamps inside, just the trails of boy’s feet, the trails of hands being dragged as a makeshift guide.

Stebbins followed it.

* * *

Baker let his hands drag down the mud, his nails getting dirtier, the bandaid on his face caught the humidity, he was debating whether he should yank it off, but the rest of the guys had plaster it on him and insisted he kept it on while doing it, so he was keeping it on.

He was carrying the bandages they send him off with inside a makeshift haversack, one of the guys had been shot on the leg, he was back at his home watching his leg rot, they had sent him because the small frayed chemist shop was closer to his home, Baker had always found it ironic that they had decided to put the chemist shop right beside the mortician's house.

And he had decided to take this route, it was faster, he knew he shouldn't be here, this was like begging to get caught, maybe he was.

The other guys had gone back to their houses, they had things to do, they were busy and more than that they were afraid, Baker felt like he should be afraid as well, he just wanted to get his bike and run away but he couldn't do that, so he was down here instead.

He took a turn, he was going back to the barn, he hadn't planned to but he recognized where his legs were taking him, it hurt to be so aware that you were doing something you shouldn't be, he almost felt like a scolded child.

Baker stepped on top of one of the fallen branches, it cracked.

“Down!” The voice resonated, Baker recognized it, he was speaking to him again, he turned back, running from where he had come, the voice groaned, its owner came into view, he was exactly like he had been before, for some reason Baker had expected him to look different now, he sounded younger as well, Baker shivered thinking that maybe they could be the same age.

The footsteps got closer, the tunnel was closing in, Baker was far too close to a dead-end, his back hit the wall of dirt behind him.

“Down! Or I will shoot!” The Squad held the rifle, his black gloved hands carefully over the trigger.

“No!” Baker held his hands up.

“On your knees! To the ground!” Baker slowly got the ground, gazing up at The Squad’s black helmet, sometimes he wondered if Squads even had eyes, or faces, or names, or if they just had numbers strapped to their chests, or if they were just robots, they could be, and he wouldn't know it.

“Hands behind your head!” Baker complied, his eyes shutting entirely with so much strength he began tearing up.

The Squad took the handcuffs out, about to put them on the kid, but then, his helmet's receptor made a static noise then connected.

“Drop whatever you are doing and get here” It was the voice of one of the other Members, he tensed, Baker opened his eyes sightly as if peeking through a door he wasn't supposed to.

“What?” The Squad's voice was low, a rough whisper, Baker found that far scarier than his screaming.

“Drop what you are doing and get over here. We found the Nightriders hideout, whatever you are doing it’s **not** more important than this” And even he could recognize that was an absolute. He groaned, letting the rifle fall out of focus, Baker shot his eyes up at him, trying to see something past that void-like darkness of his helmet, he found nothing.

Baker heard no noise, he suddenly saw The Squad’s leg raise up, his boot as dirty as his own shoes, then it connected right against his mouth, the impact threw him to the ground, his knees aching as his face dived into the mud, the grains making their way up his nose and mouth, he could taste his own footsteps on his mouth.

The Squad turned back, giving him one last look before he ran somewhere else, Baker didn't dare raise his head until he was sure The Squad was gone. 

* * *

Stebbins walked out of the hideout, an old abandoned storage room, they had caught almost everybody there, they were already handcuffed and shipped away like boxes, but some had gotten away, some always got away, they were like cockroaches in a sense, but they would get them all. They had to get them all.

Stebbins sat on their vehicle, he had the driver's seat, Their Commanders voice in his helmet.

“Report” Stebbins held his rifle tighter, pretending he couldn't hear the rest breathing heavily and hotly like bulls behind him.

“We haven't been able to get all of them.” 

“You know what that means.”

“I do.” 

The rest stood up, two of them grabbed his arms, Stebbins held onto the rifle then left it to fall, clanking against the metal floor, he could tell they were putting strength they didn't need to, they took him, Stebbins stopped feeling, his body falling limply like a doll, they would have to stay in one of the ranches, whoever lived there was probably far too scared to argue against them.

Stebbins closed his eyes for the rest of the experience, but his eyes didn’t water anymore.

* * *

Baker had run back to his house, his parents gave him questioning looks, his sister helped him patch up his mouth and all his other cuts and bruises, they didn't question it, there was no need, who wanted to hear such sad things in the middle of the day anyways.

* * *

He had spent most of the next days sleeping. He sat in his room, imagining figures on the blonde wood of his walls, the house was silent even though there were so many people in it, his skin was itching, he could taste the misery in the air. He wasn't used to being inside his own house for so long anymore, it was getting to him, really getting to him.

He turned to the window and snapped it open, he jumped out, he left it open, they were never ones to say goodbye and he never stayed around for too long.

He ran to where he had left his bike after The Squads raid, it was dusty and black with traces of red and blood from the last member, the guy had gotten shot while he was still on, none of the others had wanted to take it for that, much less the few family members he had, but Baker really didn't mind, this bike was one of the few things that didn't smell of misery for him.

He hopped in, he felt the heat of the engine and took off.

He drove his favorite bike to his favorite place, the deepest parts of the forest, that place rekt of life, he loved it there, it wasn't ideal to ride there at all, but he did it anyways.

He took a turn, he was approaching the lake, when a bullet pierced through one of his wheels, he heard the sound of the air coming out of it, he lost balance on it, sliding down the right side, he hit the brakes in an instant, his hands getting red on the handles, he turned the bike on the opposite direction leaving burning marks beneath him.

“What the...” He held onto the handles, looking around himself, he heard branches creaking, and at that instant The Squad member from last time jumped out, landing right in front of him, rifle in hand, his merciless black helmet on. 

“Down!” 

Baker gulped down, jumping off his bike, kneeling down on the opposite side.

“Don't be ridiculous” The Squad said, Baker felt his legs paralyzed, he felt like he wanted to crawl back, but even if he could he wouldn't have, The Squad grabbed the handcuffs from his belt and walked towards him, he kneeled down, yanked Baker’s arm and handcuffed him, Baker's right wrist to his own left, he turned the key and saved it, taking it back to where it had first come from.

Baker heard himself yell, he didn't know why his reaction kicked in so late, why he had screamed if even during the raid he hadn't.

“Shut up” The Squad said, he tugged his arm making Baker get up and begin walking forward, Baker tripped over his feet, he couldn't quite understand what was happening, he stared at his motorcycle wanting to come to it and not being capable of, knowing that every step he gave was like walking himself into the grave, and yet not really understanding it at all.

“Wh-what...” He heard his voice, he towed listening to the clinking noise the cuffs made, as if he hadn't believed they were real up until then, maybe he hadn't, nobody survived getting Squaded, nobody spoke about those who had gotten Squaded, and that's what was happening to him right now, right? What had happened last night, right? Somehow it didn't feel real.

“Don't even think about it” He heard The Squad's voice, he hadn't been struggling, was that how it had come off? He stopped.

They kept walking, he looked at The Squad, he knew kids his age could be doing that sort of thing, everybody did, but it wasn't common, or at least Baker had never thought so.

“Move it” The Squad spoke, Baker hurried, he hadn't even realized he had slowed down.

The Squad raised his hand and touched a part of his helmet, he walked forward, his footsteps didn't falter, Baker knew there was no way he could tell, but he thought he was listening to a very important message, he had done this last time too. 

“What?” The Squad said, then a bullet flew on top of them.

The Squad ran to the trees and kneeled, taking cover, Baker searched for the source of the bullets.

Before them was The Squad's camouflaged truck and all of his people stood beside it, showing it, shooting it, screaming and yelling with their fists up in the air, they too had their cuts and bruises, their voices were hoarse, Baker thought they already knew there was no way they weren't going down, so might as well go with a banger, right?

Bullets rang in front of them, The Squad groaned he put his hand back on his helmet screaming orders Baker couldn't process, The Squad held the rifle with his cuffed hand now, and Baker thought he didn't want to go down just yet.

Baker yanked the rifle from him, held it awkwardly in one hand, he had seen it being used before, he knew how to do it, they had taught him how, how much of a treason would it be to use the weapons they had taught him to use against them.

A bullet pierced through the tree, Baker brought it up, he shot back, hoping to God he didn't hit anything.

“Run” He said, The Squad seemed cut off, they began running down the forest, the bullets followed them, he kept his head down the entire time.

They got lost in the forest, they kept going until the sound of their footsteps was stronger than the sound of the bullets.

Baker looked at the chain, they stopped in front of a tree, he squinted his eyes, he brought his arm up and pulled, The Squad slammed against the tree behind them. 

Baker aimed the rifle at him, he didn't know how his hand wasn't shivering, he didn't know what he would do if they did, because he knew that he could never shoot this guy, it didn't matter how opposed they were, it didn't matter if it meant his own death, shooting blankly to escape, and shooting to kill were two different things, or at least that’s what he chose to tell himself.

“Get the handcuffs off.” 

“Give the rifle back, Baker.”

“Get them off” The rifle shook faintly “Off!”

The Squad showed his open palms, then slowly reached down to his belt, pulling the silver key out, he inserted it and twisted, the handcuffs made a strong click noise and opened.

Baker immediately stepped away, The Squad leaped away from the tree towards him, Baker hed the rifle closer to his chest walking backwards, his face fixated on The Squad's hands, they circled each other, Baker gripped the gun dirtying it with his sweat then threw it, it grazed The Squad's helmet leaving an almost imperceptible dent on it.

Baker ran and ran he didn't know where to, he just kept running leaves and branches scratching his face, he closed his eyes, if the wolves were to get him he didn't want to see while they did, but they didn't and somehow that felt more strange than reassuring.

* * *

Stebbins had picked up the rifle, he felt his blood boiling but he ignored it, this was more important.

He ran to the Nightriders, rifle aimed up, he held the trigger down, it was automatic, the screaming never got to him very much.

He and the rest had circled them down, there weren't really hard to fight down, they stood side by side, after it was done, he called somebody else for a new vehicle and to clean out the corpses.

* * *

Baker had run back to his house, banged on the door insanely fast, if he was being chased, he was being selfish by coming here, he thought, but he had nowhere else to go.

His mother opened up the door, he almost tripped inside, they all gave him questioning looks, he didn't know how to apologize for it.

He went to his room, very carefully closing the door, he hated the screeching noise it made, he didn't complain about it though, he knew his parents and siblings hated it too they just didn't have money to go wasting on oil for old doors.

He lied down in bed keeping his eyes open, nights here were awfully dark, he wondered if this how it would be like to be buried alive, eternal darkness and paralyzed, with nothing but silence and the creeping sensation that something was wrong, or maybe this is how hell or the afterlife was like.

He closed his eyes, and of course, he didn't sleep.

* * *

“Are you going out again?” It was his mother’s voice, as worried as always, her eyes were sunken, her eye bags were black and purple like a bruise, she looked so dead while sipping on her purple tea.

“I have to...” He said, looking at her feet, he could hear his siblings running around in the rooms, their walls were paper thin.

“Ah...” His mother said sighing, he nodded something and went out.

He didn't really know what for, he told himself he was going out for his bike, he knew he just didn't like being inside, as dumb as he knew going out was, he supposed if they were to grab him it wouldn't matter if he was inside or outside, actually it was better for him to be outside, he could avoid his family some trouble like that, being detached was always for the best after all.

He walked inside the forest, he knew this place like the back of his hand, he felt like he was sleepwalking inside this endless forest sometimes. He grazed the trees with his hands, but he didn't need any of that prior experience for this now, it would be impossible to forget what happened here, he thought maybe the smell of gunpowder would never go away, he followed it, stepping over the crisped down branches, until he finally got a glimpse of it, the tree with a bullet pierced through it, he looked around himself, his bike was nowhere to be found.

He audibly sighed, he felt gloom even though he hadn't really expected it to still be there, he dragged his feet through the ground, he repeated the motions, drawing little shapes on the dirt, passing his feet on top of the little rocks until one got inside one of the holes in his shoes.

He wasn't really bothered by it, it happened all the time, he shook his feet around until it got off, it fell beside a bunch of other rocks, he looked at all of them, they were placed one right after the other, they looked like out of a book, a fairytale children's book, he followed them with his gaze, and felt his heart drop when he realized where they lead.

They lead to one of the underground tunnels entrances.

He ran down to the trail making sure to not step on any of them, the entrance was wide open, the sides looked to be falling apart even harder, the dirt around it was fresh, which meant that somebody had dug here really recently.

Baker gulped down, he kneeled down and jumped, in with the bigger opening in plain day it was easier to see, the walls had scratched on them, that he knew he hadn't made, and that he knew there was nobody else who could have made them anymore.

And the trail continued, and what was he meant to do expect to follow it.

He kept walking until the barn’s entrance, it was wrecked over as well, he tried to listen if there was somebody up there, but the place was dead silent except for his own breathing.

He helped himself up the entrance and got in.

“You have arrived, and through the rabbit hole, usually it's the other way around” Baker tripped over at the voice, The Squad was lounging on the floor of the barn, he seemed to have taken off most of his gear, the rifle was resting by his side “You didn't scream this time” The Squad turned to him, Baker had his mouth open, he knew he had to say something but he didn't know what, The Squad shook his head from side to side “Don't worry I won't shoot you right now.”

Baker closed his fist, he was sweating cold “Which means you will shoot me later?”

“Do you really want to know that?” The Squad turned to him, Baker thought about it. 

“No, I don't.” 

“Interesting” The Squad reached for the rifle, and stood up. Baker noticed they were basically the same height, whatever that said about their lifestyle passed him by. Baker noticed the dent on The Squad's helmet, they were standing far too close if he could do that, he felt some sort of childish pride at it, he thought, yes I did that, but he was sure that was nothing to be proud of.

The Squad walked outside the barn, Baker followed him as if he were in a trance, and right outside resting against the barn’s walls was his bike.

“She’s here” Baker said, gasping a little, he ran to its side, holding the handles, looking it up and down, the rotten paint and the stains of blood were just as like they had always been, but the wheels had been changed, they didn't have a bullet hole on them anymore.

“Calling a motorcycle “She”, Is the most stereotypical thing you have done just yet.”

“You changed the wheels.”

“Have you forgotten who you are talking to? Of course, I didn't do something as bothersome and useless as that.”

Baker opened his mouth and closed it like a fish, yeah he couldn't forget who he was talking to, if he did that could be his death sentence, and he didn't want to think of what his graves scripture would be then “But-”

The Squad interrupted him “I only brought it here, so don't question me about it.”

“You brought it?” They were basically on the opposite side from where it had been first left.

“Yes, through the same hole you crawled out from just now.”

“Through the tunnels?” Baker said, thinking back of the trail “How did you managed to do that?”

The Squad shrugged “I had time” Baker decided to not question why he had chosen such an unpractical route for it, maybe it was true, that even machines got bored from time to time.

“Why did you bring it back?”

“I had time” The Squad repeated, he gave him his back entirely, then calmly he grabbed the rifle and shot, Baker forced himself to not flinch or close his eyes at the noise, instead he walked forwards to try to see what The Squad had shot, a lot of meters before them, resting in one of the white-painted wearing-off fences rested three metal cans, and one sole bullet making a perfect hole right in the middle of them. 

“Did you put those there too?”

“What makes you think so?” Baker swallowed down, he didn't know how he was supposed to take anything The Squad said “Why are your eyes so wide? I thought you liked shooting, you did it very vehemently last time.”

“I don't” When he spoke heavily like this his accent got thicker.

“Then why did you do it?” He said it like a question, but it was obvious it wasn't one.

“I hadda.”

“No. You didn't.”

Baker ignored the truthful and burning jab “Is that why you chose this job, because you like shootin’ things?”

“Is that why you chose to be a nightrider, because you like burning down churches?”

Baker felt his heart drop, his blood coming up to his face and to his ears, he was embarrassed to be called out like that, he was embarrassed to have done everything he did, but he didn't have much else to do, he opened his mouth to say something, but he knew whatever came out would be no justification.

“Save it to yourself” The Squad said “Tell me: Would it make you feel better if I said yes to that?” Baker felt his heart beating faster on his neck, there was no answer in him for that one, he felt like The Squad was looking down on him now, like he hadn't been doing that from the very beginning.

The Squad raised the rifle and shot again “Do you really not want to try?”

“I'm not a good shot.”

“I can agree on that, though then again you really made a number on my helmet, far more than any other kid before at least” Baker thought about how many other kids The Squad must have seen “Did you really think I hadn't realized you were staring right at the dent, with those prideful yet ashamed eyes of yours?” The Squad laughed then slowly grabbed the helmet with both happens pushing it out his face, his hair cascaded down on top of his face.

“Your jaw” He said, his voice was icy cold, but it sounded far more alive than anything Baker had heard.

“Uh?”

“Your jaw, Art Baker is hanging open, that's rather rude.”

“Oh” Baker brought his hand up to his mouth, cleaning his bloodied lips with his fist “Sorry… How do you know my name?”

“There's nothing about anybody we don't know” Baker realized that the fact didn't really surprise him at all.

“Am I ever going to know your name?”

“What would you do with it?”

“Call you.” 

His eyes looked at him, questioning and trusting, then he sighed looking down at his helmet “I really should shoot you now” But he made no movement for his gun, he simply stepped further and further away, without even sparing him a second glance as he did.

“Are you going to let me get away?”

The Squad gave him a glance, then down at his rifle.

“I got things to do, Baker” He said, Baker could only watch him disappear into the distance.

* * *

Baker rode back home afterwards, after spending far too much time staring at his bike, at the cans, and at the rocks underneath his feet, he was glad that at the very least the feeling of liberty that came with his bike didn't fade away after that, though in a way he felt like it should have and that weighed him down more than anything else.

He had arrived home, dirty from his feet up, his mother had told him to go take a shower and he did, he went up to his room, he would have to hurry a lot on it in order to not waste water and time for everybody else in the house.

Baker took his shirt off, ready to get into the way too hot water he had prepared for his shower, when a small ball of paper fell out and right into his bed, he looked at it with his head tilted, he grabbed it and unwrapped it, the name **_Stebbins_ ** was written in the middle of it.

“Stebbins” He said out loud, to nobody in particular, or to the moon maybe, _Stebbins_ , he thought it suited him.

* * *

Stebbins had made a stupid choice, for no actual reason really, he knew it would have been easy to get Baker, he could probably be out of town already had he done so, but he hadn't, they were questioning him now, he had his head down, he felt like he was confessing an awful sin.

“Somebody has to take responsibility” It was Their Commander's voice, it wasn't his body.

“I know.”

They had taken all his protective gear away, they dropped him somewhere down the forest, he was bleeding somewhere down his body, he couldn't remember what exactly they had done to him, Stebbins knew this rule, if you managed to make it back to the base you got to stay, if you didn't the answer was even more obvious.

And Stebbins did get up and walked, but he didn't go where he was supposed to, he walked farther into the forest, he knew he shouldn't, but his sense of survival, his sense of pure raw survival had been torn apart far too long ago.

He needed to find this place.

Stebbins walked limply to the tree, the tree they had been at when Arthur Baker had gotten away, it had a golden bullet still inside.

He threw himself down the shade, took off his helmet, he thought he was drowning in his own breath inside it, he held tighter onto the wound on his side, his hand pressing against it, there shouldn't be any more blood to try to put back inside and that's what made him the most aghast.

* * *

Baker walked down the forest, carrying bandages on his haversack, his mother had told him to, they were for the family on the other side, for his neighbor’s woman who was too weak to walk. 

He usually wouldn't mind to do it, but his face hurt right now, the cut Stebbins had made on his face with his boots had unlatched when he opened his mouth a little too strongly this morning, and now he was openly bleeding, he was beginning to think this would be his whole life, he walked crushing leaves and grass underneath his feet, sweating underneath the shade of the tree.

“Augh” Baker heard a soft groaning, he recognized it this time, right beside the tree, and like always, he walked straight to what he shouldn't ever approach.

He carefully walked behind the tree, his eyes shot open, Stebbins had his open palm pressing against his abdomen, his teeth gritting together, his black helmet rested on the ground, it had rolled down and crashed against one of the trees, Baker noted that Stebbins did have a face, and no number on his chest, just yet, and eyes, and a name, just like everybody else, just like he did, and he was bleeding just like him.

“I can tell you are there” Stebbins said, without even looking at him.

“You are back” Baker said, his heart still raced, but somehow he didn't feel so afraid anymore.

“I can't leave.”

“No rest for the wicked” Baker sat down beside him.

“You are awfully brave, Art Baker, you are aware that I could shoot you at any moment right?” Stebbins looked down at his rifle, but he didn't even attempt to reach it, Baker saw the ragged way his chest went up and down, Stebbins put more pressure down the wound, his expression didn't change, but Baker knew there was no way he wasn't in pain right now.

“No, you can't” Baker shook his head softly from side to side, his accent showing trough even more “Stebbins, right?” Stebbins avoided his eyes, only nodding at that, then he opened his mouth, an indignant look in his eyes.

“I didn't realize your death wish was quiet this big.”

Baker sighed, he took off his haversack and opened it, whistling lightly.

“What are you doing, Baker?” Stebbins’s tone had gone back to its usual military coldness, his eyes flashed down to the gun.

“Don't worry, I don't got no gun on me” He pulled out the bandages roles “Lemme treat you.” 

“Let you treat me?” Stebbins's hands felt sticky, they were starting to slide off the wound, the blood was overflowing now, he felt like he was keeping an entire waterfall between the spaces of his fingers, he should be more used to this by now.

“Yeah, you are hurt, I'm hurt I got bandages, why not?” He unrolled them “Take your hands off so I can help you.”

“You got a cut in your lips” Stebbins said crassly, his eyes shifted around the are, he examined Baker up and down, as if he were trying to detect some imminent threat on him, he almost felt like pattering his fingers on top of his wound, who cares if they wandered up going inside, taking a trip inside everything ugly, living, and breathing, through his organs.

“Are you going to let me help you? If you are not, I know of other people who could use this too.”

“What makes you think I need your help?”

“If you could get back to your truck, or to the other Squads you would have done it already” Baker stated, Stebbins looked at him in the eyes, Baker had freckles all over his face, and he was right, and Stebbins hated it. 

Stebbins looked to the tree behind Baker, at the shadows reflecting on boulders, everywhere he could, except down at his own body, he left his hands fall slowly off the wound.

Baker sighed, he grabbed Stebbins’s hands himself and removed them.

“Don't get too cocky, Baker.”

“You may be dying, but you don't swallow your pride, do ya?”

“I'm not dying.”

“Any moment you are not recovering, you are dyin’” Baker said, something about him sounded far too used to the prospect, sounded far too used to seeing everything dying around him, Stebbins really shouldn't be taken off guard with it, he was used to killing everything around him, but somehow he was, somehow he always was.

He looked to the side, avoiding Baker’s face, Baker simpered giving him a side look, but he didn't search for his eyes again, didn't insist on making him watch, Stebbins supposed that could be called merciful, yes, Baker was a merciful person.

Baker was on his knees, diligently wrapping the cloth around him, he was almost metrical while doing so.

“Am I doing it too tightly?” Stebbins thought he was, but it wasn't a thing he could distinguish anymore, he had been training for too long to still be able to feel it properly. 

“It’s fine.”

Baker hummed in response and kept going, Stebbins could picture very well the bone-colored bandages staining without even having to look at them, he had been raised with them, after all, but Baker's hands full of blood felt different when he saw them, Stebbins thought the look fitted him.

The sound of fabric against his skin finally stopped “There you go” Said Baker.

“Should I patch up your mouth? I have heard spit is really curative” Said Stebbins.

“What's that meant?”

“Forget it, Baker” He looked down at his abdomen, Baker had put as many layers as he could, but the crimson and its odor were still present.

Baker let himself rest against the tree “Are you goin’ to tell me who did this to you?”

“You don't need to know.”

“You almost died, and you won't tell from who?”

“Why do you want to know? To see who puts down the ones that put down the dogs?”

“Is that your way of saying _who cuts the barber’s hair_?"

“That's not an answer, Baker”

“You weren't answering either, Stebbins.”

Stebbins placed his hand on top of the bandages, they felt like bones constructing his body.

“Not doing one's job has its penalties, Baker.”

Baker turned to him, he stared at Stebbins's bloodied hands and then at his own, he eye Stebbins's profile, before closing his eyes. 

“Yeah, it does” He grabbed a handful of the grass beneath him, he didn't pull at it, he left it breathe underneath his skin “Are you going to stay?”

“We haven't caught all of the nightriders yet.”

“Yeah, you haven't.” 

* * *

Stebbins walked back to the vehicle, he ignored all the eyes that grazed him as if he were a walking ghost, they should be used to this by now, and Baker on his own place, lied with a little too much facility, when the guys asked him why half the bandages were missing.

Stebbins decided to keep on making bad decisions, and he hated himself a little too hard for it.

* * *

Stebbins woke up earlier than the rest, he felt like he was sneaking around like before, like he was twelve again.

He walked to the barn, it wasn't vigilated anymore, they knew there was no more point in it, Stebbins chose to believe he didn't know why he was here, he wasn't wearing his helmet right now, he held it tightly to his chest.

He stepped in, the old wood screeching beneath his heavy clothing, Stebbins could barely feel himself under all of it.

Music came from inside the barn, lonely and steady, a song that had begun far before he had arrived, he savoured it and knew he had arrived to the right place.

“You are back” Baker said, taking the harmonica off his mouth stopping the music, he was sitting with his back to the wall.

“I can't leave” Said Stebbins, technically it wasn't a lie “On the other hand you definitely shouldn't be here” Stebbins looked down at the harmonica “That instrument of yours, it’s rather attention-calling.”

Baker took it back up his lips, and played a quick riff on it “Yeah but I think it's worth it” Stebbins looked at him unimpressed, he placed his helmet down beside him, Baker looked rather happy to see his face, Stebbins couldn't figure out why. 

Baker looked around the barn, he felt blue looking at it destroyed entirely, while back then it had filled him with so much joy, it was a miracle it wasn't falling apart on top of them, the building screeched as it breathed.

“You look like you are remembering something, Baker” Baker really didn't know how he was so perceptive, if Squad Governmental Training or whatever they did, or if it was simply Stebbins’s nature, probably both if he really thought about it, he left the harmonica rest on the ground, the obsidian black helmet reflecting on the harmonica’s metal surface.

“I am.”

“What?”

“I was thinking 'bout last year, we used this place as a dancing room, a girl had her sweet sixteen here and the whole town came together, over here everybody knows everybody” Baker hadn't been thinking about that exactly, but it was the same meaning, he supposed.

“Is that a party?” Stebbins asked, his face as blank as always.

“You don't know?” Stebbins denied with his head “When a girl turns sixteen, she makes a party and it's a really big deal for everybody.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, it's been ‘round Before The Change, guess people kept stuck to it.”

“How curious” Baker nodded, everything from Before The Change was really curious, after all “A dance room, you said, does that mean you can dance, Baker?”

“Do you want me to show you?” Baker saw an opportunity and took it, without much a thought like always.

Baker stood up, Stebbins interested eyes on him, he extended him a hand, Stebbins looked at it, as untrusting as ever, he placed his hand on top of his chest, seemingly making his decision, Baker waited for him patiently.

Stebbins turned his head to the other side, avoiding his eyes, but he took his hand, Baker though he was as cold as a corpse, not like he had ever minded things like that too much.

Baker placed his left hand on Stebbins’s shoulder, he felt him tense in through the clothes, he chuckled at that.

“What's so funny, Baker?” His voice was as strong as always, but the mask had fallen off too hard just now, after all of this, did that strong mask even exist, at all?

“Nothing, nothing” Baker shook his head, he felt somewhat at peace right now “You haveta put your hand on my shoulder too.” 

“Why did I say yes to this?”

“I dunno, but you already did” He applied pressure to his shoulder, holding him in place, in a way, he was afraid he would fade into nothingness, he supposed, everything fades away with time, just not right now please, he thought “I won't move away, once you do.”

Stebbins looked at him, his mouth opened a little, he looked confused, Baker felt confused too, so that was alright.

Stebbins raised his right hand, Baker thought it shook lightly but that could have been his imagination just as well, he slowly placed it on top of Baker's shoulder, he felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, they stood there in silence for a little while, solely staring at each other, hearing the wind drumming again the windows, and the wood.

Baker whispered “It's one step forward, and one back” That was were his knowledge ended. 

“If you don't know how to dance, you shouldn't invite people to” Stebbins said, sounding childishly bitter about it.

“But you are already here."

Stebbins looked at his face, his eyes racing down his freckles “Yes I am."

Baker took a step forward, Stebbins followed.

They walked through the room, one step at the time, they pranced around, dirt and life on their feet, the shadows followed them, Baker had wanted to spin Stebbins, but he didn't know how to do those things, instead they simply moved to the rhythm of their united breathing, Baker thought there wasn't much need for more.

Stebbins looked at him, their faces were so close.

“Art-” The noise coming from his helmet interrupted him, Baker felt despairful all of a sudden, he had wanted to hear whatever Stebbins had to say, so, so bad, Stebbins backed out “I have to attend that."

“Why are you pulling away?” He knew, but he wasn't sure he understood.

“I got things to do, Baker."

“You don't want to go."

“Your cockiness will be your downfall, if you really believe you could guess my emotions from one line of dialogue."

“I know you don't want to."

“Let us say you are hypothetically correct, so what if I don't want to, you didn't seem to want to burn people's yarns down, and you did it regardless."

“It was different”

“It was different” He repeated with grandeur “Different how, it's a means to an end isn't it? I do my thing and you do yours”

“Don't go back” He ignored him, he stung too hard sometimes, he felt like his heart could break sometimes “In the forest, they did that to you didn't they?”

“You are being bothersome, Baker” His expression changed, he backed away, he was grinning now “I could sho-”

“No, you can't, stop it with that, I know you can't. What scares you so bad?” Baker felt his own voice raising “What are you afraid of?”

“I-” Stebbins yelled, clutching his fist, his skin getting paler, he seemed to be trying to self-restrain “Yes I am afraid, why wouldn't I be? You're Just a lowly nightrider when you get caught it would be a few weeks down for you. then nothing more what do you think they are going to do to me? I, a traitor to the fatherlands, just what do you think? I know your brain is malnourished but I'm sure even you could figure that out. What would you rather be, Baker, dead or haunted?”

“Then why are you here!?” Baker heard himself a scream, Stebbins felt his nails, digging into the leather of his gloves “I'm sorry I didn't mean to-” He doubled down in pain, Stebbins had kneeled him in the stomach, Stebbins's pants were full of all kinds of muck, that were now all over him, he didn't mind but he knew his mother would be so mad at him for bringing another dirty unwashable shirt, another crux for her, he thought.

“Keep it to yourself Baker” Stebbins kicked him again, connecting against his leg, with the same old dirty boot as last time, Baker noticed, he picked up his helmet and ran, Baker didn't raise his head to see him off, he just heard his footsteps disappear.

* * *

Stebbins put the helmet back on, he gave the proper formalities, he pretended he didn't recognize the unapproving silence of Their Commander.

“We are taking off in two days, make sure there's no unfinished business.”

“I will” He cut communication off, the sound of static was graining in his brain.

He walked back, he organized the rest, he took no notice of the feeling that he was dismissing something really important.

“Is everything ready?” One of the men asked him.

“Yes.” 

“You will be going to Maine after, this ain't you? One of The Walk soldiers, right?”

“None of your business” Stebbins said, without looking at him “Go back to your position.”

“Yes, Sir” The man sounded far too resentful for something so petty, and Stebbins still had so many things to do before leaving.

They were going to sleep now, a few men stood outside walking around like ants protecting their queen, Stebbins hated having to loom at them, Stebbins hated having to wait to do what he needed to do, but he could, he had been doing so his entire life after all.

He went to sleep, woke up, took his turn, and left.

He had orders after all, didn't he?

* * *

Baker had woken up and gone back the barn, he had gotten some pomade on the new bruises, afterwards, he rode his bike all the way here, though he barely felt like he could actually move at all, he was oddly used to it by now. 

He had his back against the barn’s outside wall, when he heard a noise, he turned back to look at the inside, Stebbins crawled out of the tunnel's entrance Stebbins took off the helmet and met his eyes, he walked up to him.

“How do you always know where I'm at?” Baker felt his sides aching when he spoke.

“It’s a part of the job” Baker began saying something, but Stebbins interrupted him “Did you get too injured?”

“I say the one in the mouth's worse” He traced his fingers down it, it was still scarring crimson and purple. 

Stebbins looked at it, carefully tracing it with his eyes “You are rather calm about it.”

“Would you prefer I yelled again?”

Stebbins didn't raise his eyes “No.” 

“I won't, and If you are here to kick me again, please take your boots off first.”

“I will keep it in mind for the next time.”

They stood around in silence for a while, looking at their feet with their arms closed, until Stebbins heard Baker sigh.

“Stebbins” Stebbins raised his eyes “What if we go to town?”

“Why?”

“Do you really just want to stand here in silence?”

Stebbins gripped his arms harder around his body “Where?”

“There's a small town not too far away, there's more to do there than here.”

Stebbins weighed the consequences of his actions on his head, he decided he had come too far, unreasonably far to be backing out now “Let's.”

* * *

They had been walking down the woods and out of the shade, for what felt like forever.

“You said it was nearby.”

“It's not that far.”

“You used the wrong term.”

“Okay, it's a small town that it's not that far, that better?”

Stebbins rolled his eyes “You should have said that at the start.” 

“Sorry.”

“You say sorry so much, I really wonder how such a nice kid like you ended up in the nightriders.”

Baker stiffened at the question “The same way as everybody else, you know somebody who knows somebody, I'm sure you already know that.”

“We know in papers, in confessions, but that's different than right now, isn't it?” Yeah, Baker supposed it was a little different.

“How did you end up in The Squads?”

“It's the family business.”

“Your dad in The Squads too?”

“Yes, a high rank too.”

“Still, it ain't common to see people our age in The Squads.”

“No, but it also isn't impossible”

“Yeah, guess so” After that they kept silence until the town came into view, Baker excitedly looked around, as if he was looking for something really sensational, his smile got wider as he seemed to find it.

“Stebbins, you want ice cream?” Stebbins tilted his head “The stand is right there” Baker pointed with his thumb at the ice cream post a few meters away from them.

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, ice cream.”

“I never had ice cream before” Baker laughed a little, until he realized that Stebbins’s face hadn't changed a little, he was still grimly staring with his tilted head at him.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, why would I lie about that?”

“Why not?”

“I never _had_ to eat ice cream.”

“You don't have to, but still, why not?”

“I just told you, Baker, because I never had to” Stebbins spoke matter of factly, and Baker decided he needed to give him an ice cream right away.

“I'm gettin’ you an ice cream! Right now!” Baker said, he grabbed Stebbins’s wrist and ran down the street to the ice cream stand.

“Arthur!” The ice cream man greeted him, he felt a little uncomfortable at being called Arthur, basically nobody called him that anymore, but he didn't want to correct the man.

“Hey!” He responded then immediately turned to Stebbins “What are you goin’ to want?”

“I don't know. I never had ice cream before.”

“Never!” The man said, Stebbins didn't understand if he was supposed to answer.

“He's weird. I'm getting him ice cream now” Baker answered.

“Good Arthur! Somebody should!” They spoke to each other casually, and so did everybody else over there, the place was small, he knew everybody here probably knew each other, Squads could barely recognize each other's faces, let alone voices or names.

Baker nodded enthusiastically then turned to him and told him the flavors, Stebbins thought about it, in a manner that seemed too serious to Baker.

“Vanilla. I want vanilla” Said Stebbins.

“One order of vanilla coming right up!”

“I'm gonna want chocolate” Baker said.

“Wait!” Stebbins didn't understand why all this guy's dialogue had to have an exclamation point on them “Do you even have money to pay this with, Arthur?”

“I will have money next week” Baker responded without missing a beat, showing his wide white smile “Please, you know I always pay back” Even though Baker was painfully aware, that what he had just said wasn't true at all.

The guy sighed “Fine” He gave them their ice creams “I will remember Arthur, and if you don't pay, I break your skull!”

“Yeah I know. Don't worry. I will” Stebbins felt uncomfortable seeing the display, the only thing he could try to relate this to, was the guys who borrowed each others cigarettes and only promised to pay them back later.

The man scolded him a little more before letting them off the hook, they walked further inside the town.

“Do you not like it?” Baker asked him, as he finished his ice cream.

“I don't hate it” He wasn't about to give him such a satisfaction by acting excited, and he wasn't technically lying, just downplaying it a lot.

“That's good. I say because you look bothered.”

“Did I really?” 

Baker gave him a side smile “What's bothering you, Stebbins?” 

Everything bothered him in a certain way, right now being put in this position was one of the most bothersome things that had ever happened to him, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

“I have a lot of work” Wok here and work at Maine, it would all be so bothersome, he was sure of it.

“Oh” Baker stopped in front of one of the trees, its shade devouring the pavement in front of them “Wanna sit down?”

“Yes” Stebbins nodded.

They sat down on the ground, resting their backs against the abandoned pub behind them.

“What do Squads even do, besides kidnappin’ people and hunting bikers down?”

“Is that what you call yourselves? Bikers? Bikers instead of thieves, arsonists, and criminals?”

“You guys call yourselves Squads instead of kidnappers, torturers, and pigs.”

Stebbins smiled wide, showing his teeth “Fair enough.” 

“Tell me, Stebbins, what do you do?”

“Many things that if I told you, I would have to kill you” Stebbins stated, but Baker just kept his silence, waiting for him to go on, his stare was getting to him “Though I officially have to go attend The Long Walk this year.”

Baker's eyes widened, Stebbins felt satisfied with that response “You are a Walker?”

“Would that change your opinion on me?”

“If I say it does, that's another reason for getting Squaded.”

“Quick one” Stebbins said, then lowered his head “No I'm not a Walker. I will be attending as soldier and The Walk is...”

Baker finished the sentence for him “Is really soon” Stebbins nodded, Baker kept silent, only looking at the shadows dancing in their feet “Am I ever going to meet you again?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And the day after tomorrow?”

“What would we even do tomorrow?”

“We could dance again, if you like.”

“If that's what you want, we can do it right now” Take care of unfinished business, he could hear the words in his head.

“Really?”

“You proposed first” Stebbins gave him his hand “Let's just get it over with, Baker.”

Baker squeezed his hand “Are you going to regret it in the morning?”

“I always do, but so will you, won't you?”

Baker stood up together with him, placing his hand on his shoulder “Yeah, you are right.”

* * *

Baker rode his bike to the entrance of the forest, he had made his way here since early morning with no hurry, racing and slowing whenever he felt like it, feeling the wind blowing through his hair, he already knew Stebbins would be here whenever he decided to show up, though Baker had no clue how Stebbins always managed to be everywhere before him.

He stopped in front of a tree, his footsteps barely making any noise.

“I know you are here” Baker said looking up to no tree in particular, trying to catch some part of Stebbins’s camouflage. 

“No you don't” Stebbins’s voice came, then he jumped off a tree behind him.

“But you were here.”

“But you didn't know that.”

“You are here, same difference.”

Stebbins seemed to think about it, then he shrugged “Fair enough, I suppose.” 

“You said you would be here today, you don't seem like the sort of person who would break a promise.”

“I didn't say it was a promise.”

“No you didn't, but it still was a promise.”

“As cocky as ever, I see, Baker.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Shut up, Baker.”

He chuckled lightly “Sorry.”

Stebbins rolled his eyes “You were still the one who told me to come, do you have anything in mind, or do you long for my presence that much?”

He ignored the jab “Wanna go back downtown?”

“Even if I don't want to, I'm already here, so might as well do it.”

“Then I race ya” Baker hopped into his bike already hot and sped up in a second. 

“You must really want me to shoot your motorcycle again, Baker” It wasn't even a question, Baker slowed down the bike, the engineer still running, he was laughing, it sounded like white noise he barely registered on his own ears. 

“Yes, you must really want me to.”

“Do you even have the rifle on you?” Baker looked him up and down, almost no protective gear, no helmet and no gun, this was the closest he had gotten to seeing Stebbins as he really was, he knew that would have to be enough, he knew it was selfish to always be hoping for more.

“It's up there, I promise you won't have to wait too long to get your wish come true” Stebbins was actually walking back to the tree.

“Wait no” He called up to Stebbins “I'm sorry, I'm sorry please don't shoot her again” Baker raised his hands up in defeat.

“That's a notorious weak point” Stebbins looked at him with resentful eyes, but he walked back at him.

“I know” He said, his accent weighed down on his tongue “Hop in” Stebbins raised his eyebrow at that “Hop in.”

“Why?”

“Last time you complained the whole time we had to walk there, I figured you would prefer this.”

“You brought the motorcycle because it makes you feel cool, don't lie to yourself Baker.”

“Yah” Stebbins tilted his head at Baker’s response “Yah ma bike makes me feel cool, what's bad about that?” Stebbins was about to go on another one of his monologues, Baker interrupted him “Hop in, or do you not like bikes?”

“It's not a matter of whether I like them or not.”

“Are you afraid of them then? Don't worry I wouldn't let you fall.”

“Shut up, Baker!” Stebbins face was flushed, he seemed to have gotten worked up “I'm obviously not afraid of a motorcycle I'm a Squad, I don't know how many times have I reminded you, but I ride motorcycles for more reasons than looking cool.”

“Do it to look cool this time” Baker smiled at him softly, showing his dimples on each side.

“You are unbelievable, Baker.” 

“Is that a yes?”

“Shut up” Stebbins said, he stepped towards the opposite side of the motorcycle and helped himself up “Are we going to have a clique sunset riding scene now?”

“If you want one.” 

“I would be all for one but the sun is still too bright.”

“Close your eyes and pretend it isn't.”

“Thank you for the advice, Baker.”

“Any time” Baker closed his hands around the handles and they went off again, there was no softness or peace in this, they overtook the plants that were on their way, and the smell of the smoke coming from the back pipes of the bike was far too strong, everything was a little too much when it came down to riding, at least that's how it always was for Baker.

Stebbins wrapped his arms around Baker's torso, hiding his face on Baker's back. 

“Thought you were used to it!” Baker yelled over the sound of the engine.

“I am, Baker” Stebbins yelled back, but his arms tightened around him.

And they kept going like that, all the way downtown.

* * *

They arrived to town, it looked different in plain daylight, Stebbins thought this town had no transitions it went for day to sunset to night in a couple of hours, the feeling that they shouldn't be here only amplified lie that, Stebbins thought that people like them could only ever feel truly comfortable in the dark, otherwise they would be too exposed.

Stebbins got off the bike before Baker did, even if he knew that was more uncomfortable and unnecessary thing to do, he began walking forwards without bothering to look back, letting Baker do all the chasing. 

He arrived to the part he had been looking for, before he left Baker catch up with him.

“Were you still mad?”

“I wasn't ever mad. I don't understand what you are speaking about” He declared, Baker gave him a small smile, Stebbins looked at him then to the side, he really had to “Can we” Stebbins began, biting the inside of his cheek “Get _those_ things as last time?”

Baker looked at him confused for a second before realizing _those_ things were popsicles he still found it unbelievable that in all of Stebbins’s life he really had never had one but here they were.

“Yeah, sure” Baker pointed to the stand on the other side of the street “Let's go” Stebbins nodded, as they walked there. 

“Two in a row, and you haven't even paid the last one!”

“Sorry, you know I will.”

“‘Course I do! If I didn’t I wouldn't sell ya!”

“Thank you” Baker said, looking sincerely apologetic, Stebbins was still amazed by the closeness all these people seemed to have with each other.

Baker asked for strawberry this time, the ice cream man asked Stebbins what he was going to want this time, but Baker spoke first. 

“Vanilla like last time, right?”

“Why the assumption, Baker?”

“You look like you want one, a lot” Stebbins felt stung, because he did want one again, a lot. He nodded stiffly.

“There it goes” The man gave him the ice cream cone, Baker apologized, thanked, and said goodbye all in the same sentence, after that they walked further in, Stebbins didn't say thanks to anybody, though he had felt tempted to do it just then.

They ate their ice creams in peace and silence, making sure to stop underneath the shadows that the stores and houses made. 

Baker saw Stebbins lick off the remnants of ice cream off his fingers. 

“What is it, Baker?” Stebbins’s voice got him off his trance.

“Do you want to go to the train?”

“That's rather sudden.”

“I know, but do you want to, it’s right here.”

“Why not?” Stebbins agreed, Baker didn't know if he should feel suspicious from the easy answer, but he decided to take it gladly. 

“Lead the way” Stebbins said, Baker nodded and walked them to the station, the sun was starting to set.

“It’s coming” Baker said, they could hear the sound of the machinery from afar. 

“Do you want to go in?”

“Ain't got the money for tickets.”

“I never said we were going to use tickets” Stebbins said, smiling mischievously “Let's jump in.”

It wasn't the first time he would have done so, but the guilt still got to him, more so after what had just happened, it would feel way too ironic.

“Or what? Do you not want to? Too hard for you, Mr. Nightrider?”

“Thought Squads weren't supposed to break the law.”

“I am not breaking the law. I am performing a special undercover move to catch the last remaining member of the nightriders of this area.”

The sound got louder, if they were going to they had to now, Baker didn't answer.

The train approached them, they shared a look, then jumped, they held themselves onto the handles, their feet touching the small metal plaque the train had for floor, they turned back to the closed door.

“You did jump, Baker, I almost thought you wouldn't” Stebbins said then slammed against the door with his shoulder, opening it in one go.

“Almost?” Baker looked at him, his eyes were so tender, but so cold.

“Almost, even if you forget who I am I never forget who you are, Baker” Stebbins walked in, Baker followed after him, he felt mesmerized in a way, like his feet were floating on earth. 

Stebbins lead him to one of the open wagons, the place was full of storage boxes and the old wood smell, the sunset turning redder and redder before them, Baker had his hand on top of Stebbins’s, he knew that whatever he had to ask, he had to now.

“You are going back?”

“I have to.”

“To Maine?”

“Yes.”

Stebbins grabbed his hand, he brought it up, he traced his skin with the tip off his finger, he parted the hair from his face and kissed the inner side of Baker’s wrist, it was a long moment of silence, they didn't say goodbye, they didn't say thank you, they didn't apologize, but they could allow themselves this. 

Stebbins kissed it again.


	2. Rabbit Dripping Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back is never easy.

Baker held the harmonica up his lips, bronze and dirty now, but functional enough. He played the notes without a second thought, he was always playing the same song, here it was like time never stopped.

He stepped inside the old barn, everything was so aged, but it hadn't really been that long at all.

He sat on the back and played, the music seemed to bounce off the walls, until the doors of the barn shot open.

* * *

Stebbins’s knees were ready to give up under him, he didn't know how long he had been walking for, he knew he could walk far longer if he needed to.

He looked up. The barn was there. The barn was there, in those moments that was everything that mattered, that it was there.

He moved what still stood as gates and stepped in, the broken down parts made an awful noise as they cranked against the floor. He could feel the light wrecked wood underneath the sole of his foot, his knees gave up.

The music felt like home.

He looked at the ceiling, searching for a familiar face, and then everything went black for a second, he saw stars and black dots behind his eyes.

* * *

Stebbins stumbled in.

“It’s you.”

Baker could barely hear his own voice, the harmonica slipping off his hands.

Stebbins walked towards him, he felt so disoriented.

Baker rushed to his side, the harmonica made a metallic noise as it slammed against the ground, and grabbed both of his shoulders, forcing him to look at his face “It’s you.”

“It is me, and it’s you too” Stebbins stared at his eyes, he felt like he had missed something very important somehow.

“What?” He squeezed his shoulders, like he wasn't sure what he was holding was any solid.

“It’s you too” Stebbins whispered, the wind of his words caressed Baker’s face.

“You came back” Stebbins couldn't tell if that was a question or an affirmation, probably both, he needed it to be both.

“And you were here.” 

“Of course I was!” He heard his own voice rising and stopped himself. Stebbins’s knees buckled under him, he caught him “Sit down.”

He helped him get on the floor, he looked him up and down, but he already knew there was no mistaking him, he was really confused.

He choked on air “What are you doing here?”

“I didn't have anywhere else to go.”

Baker kept staring, his eyebrows furrowed, he waited and waited, like he was giving him time to suddenly disappear, he didn't. 

“Are you on another mission?”

“No.”

“Did you come here by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“How?” His eyes never parted away “Did you walk all the way here?”

“Maybe.”

“How much was that?”

“You don't want to know” Baker decided to take Stebbins’s words at face value this time.

He looked him up and down, he was awfully pale “What happened? Are you alright’?”

“Nothing happened” Stebbins placed his hand on top of his stomach, Baker recognized it as the place he had first seen him get shot in, he was sure it should still hurt, how many hurts did Stebbins carry on his body “I am really tired.”

Baker decided there was no point in asking him anything else right now.

“Why’d we only meet when ya look like you are goin’ to die?”

“Fate” Stebbins let his head rest against the wall, Baker looked as ethereal as he had looked the first day.

Baker gave him a moment of silence to breathe, staring at his chest going up and down, he was so confused and startled, he had so many things to ask and Stebbins didn't look like he could answer any of them, right now was not the time to panic.

“This place is abandoned” Stebbins looked around, the wood seemed to be turning whiter.

“There's nobody left to come here” Baker could almost feel the ghosts of the Nightriders piercing holes with their sunken eyes on his back.

“But you are here.”

He chuckled “You got me there” He didn't know why he suddenly felt so nervous, this is what he had been waiting for wasn't it, for the Stebbins to come back someday. 

He nodded to himself, he needed resolve for this “You are going to tell me why you are here.” 

Stebbins stared him straight in the eye “Are you sure you want to know that?”

“I needta know.”

“I am not part of The Squads at the moment” Stebbins said curtly, he looked away from Baker, as if that should have been a good enough explanation. 

“You could desert The Squads?”

“Not exactly” Stebbins shook his head “I came back now, because this is the sort of thing in which waiting for the right time would mean waiting forever.” 

Stebbins shut his eyes, he felt a sharp pain on his sides.

“Are you okay?” Baker placed his hand underneath Stebbins’s left rib.

“Yeah” Stebbins opened his eyes slowly “I need to change the bandages” Baker knew better than to try to question it right now.

“There's a chemist shop next to my house. Do you think you can go?”

“Yes, it’s not so bad.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have withstood worse, Baker” Baker felt uncomfortable knowing how much truth those statements carried.

He nodded “Let's go” Baker gave him a hand and helped him stand up.

Stebbins put his hand on his side and applied pressure on himself “Okay.”

They walked silently to the chemist shop, Baker went in and brought some bandages to him.

“I am going to take you to my house” And it wasn't a question.

“Right now?” Stebbins stared at his eyes through the chemist shop’s window.

“Yes. You need to put those on and lay down in peace.”

“Are you taking me to your house to be buried?” 

“If you don't take care of yourself, I may have to” He put one hand on Stebbins’s shoulder, it was solid and as soft as a feather “C’mon.”

Stebbins turned back to him “I wouldn't be able to say no right now, would I?” 

“No, you wouldn't.”

Stebbins saw the sun frame Baker’s smile as it went down, the sun was giving Baker his last moments, and he deserved them.

“You said your house was next to the chemist shop, it is not.”

“A little bit more than right next.” 

“Are you admitting you lied?”

“I'm admitting I tweaked the truth a little.”

“Fair.”

They began walking forward, Stebbins could have sworn the grass used to be longer, not like he had any real reason to know that, to remember that.

They walked like they were chasing the sun. Baker stopped in front of a broken down cement house, Stebbins didn't have to ask.

“Can you really get any stranger guy inside your house after the sun sets, Art?”

“We already have so many people inside, nobody will care for an extra one” Baker knocked on the door once, then opened it and stepped inside, Stebbins followed him.

The painting on the walls was peeling off rebelling the inner gray, dirty and cold cement, some little kids were running around the kitchen, the floor underneath them was raised and titled in areas, Stebbins found the noise almost unbearable, and yet the whole place was so chilling and detached, he thought that maybe this is the way that the dead experienced a cemetery. 

“A friend?” A woman sitting behind a wooden dining table stared at him, she was holding an old coffee cup, the table was so big, he wondered how the people in this house slept.

“Yes, Mom” Baker didn't look at her in the eyes, he gripped his shirt’s sleeves underneath his fingertips.

“Ah” She spoke in sighs and didn't say anything else. She took her cup and began sipping on it, like they had disappeared.

“Let's go up ma' room” Baker walked up the stairs passing by the living room, two guys were sitting with beers besides them in front of a small crooked TV, they didn't even look up as Baker and Stebbins stepped past them.

“I thought you were altering the truth a little again, Baker.”

“Don't do it that often” Baker opened up one of the doors on the hallway and they went in, the door made a screeching loud noise on the sudden emptiness.

“You admit to doing it fairly often then.”

“Not more than you.”

“Never more than me.”

Stebbins looked around, it was more of the same. Baker threw the bandages at him, Stebbins automatically caught them.

“You aren't going to put them on me this time.”

“Ya want me to?”

“Maybe.”

Baker shook his head “Put ‘em on before the wound opens.”

“I didn't tell you I had a wound.”

“Why else would you need bandages for, Stebbins?”

“I could name quite a lot of things.”

“But they wouldn't be correct.”

“Only right now.”

“Right now it’s everything that matters” Baker turned his back to him “Don't be stubborn, Stebbins.”

Baker thought about asking him again, asking him what he had been doing all this time even if he probably didn't want to know, asking him why or how he got here, asking him how he had gotten that injury, asking him when he would have to leave again, he would hear Stebbins talk forever if it meant he answered any of his questions but he knew Stebbins wouldn't, Stebbins would only say what he wanted to, when he wanted to, how he wanted to, Baker supposed he was on his right to.

Stebbins stared at his back “Fine” He took off the upper body garments and began unraveling the bandages he had on, they were stained, the fabric was yellow, red, and brown now. He placed the new ones without care over his stomach, he felt the pressure up his bones, he asked himself if you could pop a lung this way, his hands worked in automatic until the bandages ran out.

He contemplated letting Baker waiting, he wanted to see how long he would bear to give him his back, but he knew already he would stand far less than everything Baker could.

“It’s done” He finished accommodating the black gear.

“That wasn't sooo hard, now was it?” Baker said calmly.

“Drop it, Baker.” 

Baker looked as Stebbins’s dirty clothes again, stained and heavy probably, Baker wondered how long Stebbins had been wearing those same soiled clothes.

“Do you want to change?” Stebbins raised an eyebrow “I can lend you some of my clothes.”

Stebbins looked up at him, his hair shifting around as he did “Why?”

“Don't you feel in a tizz in those clothes?”

“It’s not important.”

“Don't you want to feel at ease a little sometimes?”

Stebbins looked at his clothes, he knew what those crimson marks were from, how long had it been, that they didn't even smell anymore, or maybe Baker could sense them, and he was trying to make the odor go away.

“What can you give me?”

Baker opened a closet door painted white and dented at the bottom and got his less worn down pants and a shirt, it was red and white striped.

“Here” Stebbins took them.

“You really have to turn around this time, Art.”

Baker nodded “I wait for you outside” He stepped out of the room, he leaned on the door, he stopped it from making too much noise. 

Stebbins left the shirt roll down on him, it fitted him far too big. He felt lighter, he hadn't felt anything but hard metal and plastic on his skin in what felt like decades, the clothes felt like silk and cotton, even if he knew there was no way Baker could have something so expensive lying around, and if he did, would he give them to him, as easy as that? He wasn't sure, he supposed that was better.

The clothes smelled like the woods and the sun, they were warm like home. 

Stebbins’s hands were hidden by the long sleeves, he tried to open the room’s door, but it was blocked.

“Art?”

“Oh yeah” Baker stepped away from the door and opened it, Stebbins walked out, Baker tore his eyes away from him, he looked as small as he had looked next to those other Squads the first time he saw him, but he figured that was more bad than good, he didn't want to be caught staring like that.

<<Diner! Diner! Diner!>> The commotion came from downstairs, it was made by the same children Stebbins had just seen.

“It’s early today” Baker muttered more to himself than to Stebbins “You want to eat with us?”

Stebbins didn't really want to eat anything, but he knew he couldn't trust his stomach to actually tell him when he needed to eat, it wasn't meant to do that anymore, after all.

“What are you going to eat?”

“I dunno” Baker shrugged “We would haveta go downstairs to ask.”

“Alright” Stebbins felt like he was walking himself into dangerous territory. 

Baker nodded and they went to the kitchen, a dirty window, ovens, and shelves, Baker’s Mom was standing in front of a casserole, Stebbins couldn't tell if what she cooked smelled good or bad. 

“Is he going to eat with us?” Baker’s Mom asked them, she was holding a big black spoon close to her face.

“Yeah, Mom” Stebbins noticed Baker’s voice stiffened whenever he addressed her, he understood it.

“Your older brother is not here. We can afford that now” She said that, then turned back to the stewpots. Stebbins decided not to ask, Baker had granted him that, at least he could repay the favor.

They got out, Baker sat on the corner of the dining table, Stebbins sat next to him, there was a vase with plastic black roses drowning on water sitting in the middle. 

He stared at his hands as the rest of the family sat around them, they were talking with each other. Baker’s Mom and two other little girls put plates and cutlery before them, Stebbins was almost able to tune their voices out, but the words still escaped his barriers and made their way through his ears.

“So... where this one from?” One of the guys he had seen near the TV was pointing at him.

“Ma' friend” Baker picked up his fork and began eating. 

The guy snarled at him “I guess: Who cares?” And began eating himself.

Stebbins stared at the plate in front of him, what had been the last thing he had eaten, truly eaten, before all the pasta concentrated food of The Squads came? It wasn't something worth remembering, he supposed. He touched it with his fork dragging it around the plate, he couldn't bring it up to his mouth, for some reason.

The family kept talking, it all seemed so casual, this place wasn't warm but it was familiar, he thought that could be enough in some cases, to not be comfortable but to be safe, that would be enough for a person like him. Some of the younger kids finished their meals and ran back to the TV yelling ‘Dibs!’ the guys yelled something back at them, a sort of scolding, but the words held no anger.

The fork fell out of Stebbins’s hand making a loud metallic noise against the glass plate, he blinked 3 times in a row, his eyelids felt heavy on him.

“Are you okay?” Baker whispered to him, Stebbins nodded “Your hands are shaking” Baker and he looked down at them, his pale hands were trembling, Stebbins hid them beneath the table.

“Are you sure? You don't have to eat it, if you don't want to” His eyes looked big with worry.

“I am fine, Art. I will eat it” Stebbins clenched and unclenched his fists before grabbing the fork again and forcing the food down his throat, it didn't taste like he was expecting to, though he didn't know what exactly he was expecting, at all. 

Baker nodded and they continued eating, but he looked like he still had so much left to say.

They finished eating, the rest of the family slowly moved away from the table, Baker’s Mom was the last one to go, Baker and Stebbins stayed a little longer, Stebbins hadn't even realized when he had finished eating.

Baker took their plates to the kitchen, Stebbins walked slowly behind him “Where are you going to sleep at?” Baker left them on the already full dishwasher. 

  
“In the barn” Stebbins responded without missing a beat.

“You don't have to sleep in the barn, you can stay here, in my room.” 

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“It's your family’s house.”

“Yeah” Baker figured it was fair enough “But I don't want you to sleep on the street, you are hurt.”

Stebbins smiled softly “I have slept in worse places, in far worse conditions, I don't know how many times I will have to tell you: I'm fine, Baker.”

“You will have to tell me until it isn't a lie anymore.”

“How are you so sure I'm lying right now?”

“You are going to sleep in a barn with a major injury, that's not fine, Stebbins.”

“It could be worse.”

“That doesn't mean it’s fine now” Yeah, there was a reason Stebbins came back.

“I will have to leave you waiting for an answer, Art.”

“Knew it.”

“Yeah” Stebbins stepped out of the kitchen “I will leave now. I hope you sleep well.”

“Same goes both ways.”

Baker walked Stebbins out the door, he waved at him as he walked out.

Stebbins walked back to the barn in darkness, he trailed the trees with his fingertips, he felt like he could get back even with his eyes closed, it was familiar like something he shouldn't know.

* * *

Baker felt the weight of his old and repatched haversack as he opened the barn’s door, he was nervous, he thought, what if Stebbins wasn't here anymore, what if he had never been, that fear would never be gone because he already knew that even if Stebbins could stay forever, he wouldn't. 

“Art” Stebbins was laying on the barn’s wall in the very back, with his legs straight and extended in front of him, he still had his clothes on, he didn't know why it surprised him, it was obvious he would still have them on, but it surprised him, nonetheless, everything about Stebbins always surprised him, and his clothes looked way nicer on Stebbins that they had ever looked on him. 

Baker walked up to him, the light barely entered through the barn's antique broken windows, it reflected golden and opale on Stebbins’s face.

“What are you doing?” He asked him, kneeling in front of him.

“Counting my toes, they are fabulously good company because they always add up.”

“One time my uncle buried a man with six toes.”

“Interesting.”

Baker nodded while getting something out of his bag, he offered it to Stebbins, it was a new set of bandages.

“I brought 'em before your wound cried out for them this time” Stebbins took them, they felt foreign in his hands when they were like this, he wasn't used to receiving anything he didn't immediately need.

“Trying to get me undressed this early in the morning, Baker?” 

Baker hummed “If that's what it takes to keep you alive” Baker turned around, he put his hands inside his pants’s pockets and began whistling, it was a soft high pitched sound, it melted well with the birds they could hear east to them. 

Stebbins gave himself a second before standing up and taking off the old bandages.

As he finished putting the new ones on “...Thank you, Art.”

The whistling stopped, Stebbins almost felt guilty about making it stop “It’s nothing” He fidgeted around a little “You know yesterday the house was way louder than it had been on months” Stebbins didn't know if that was good or not but Baker spoke with a little of relief and glee on his voice, moderately though, like he was holding it back from breaking the barn’s walls.

“You can turn around now” Baker did, Stebbins walked closer to him. 

Stebbins looked past him into the tunnel’s entrance, it had been left unattended ever since he left, there wasn't anybody left to use them anyways, so why bother with it. 

“I always wondered how many tunnels you had, sadly enough, I didn't have a lot of time to explore them last time.”

“Some go downtown, a bunch to different parts of the woods, one to another barn...”

“Another barn?” Stebbins’s eyes always shone a little when he seemed interested in something, he remained Baker of a wild young animal more often than not.

“That barn got torn down the year you left” Baker felt melancholic about it, but then again, that was his usual state.

“Why?” Stebbins’s arms fell completely flat at his sides all of a sudden.

“Some of the neighbors tore it down to build a cafe in it.”

“I see” Stebbins unpursued his lips as he approached the entrance “Art?” Baker hummed in response “Do you want to go downtown?”

Baker smiled softly, showing his dimples “Yeah.”

Stebbins gave him one glance before jumping down the entrance, Baker ran behind him, he felt the dust raise to the soles of his feet as he went.

“Catch me if you can, Art” Stebbins’s voice resonated through the tunnel, Baker had already lost him from sight, he followed his marked footprints on the modding soil, the handprints had long disappeared.

“Hey!” He chased after his shadow “Come back!”

“Hurry!” Stebbins laughed rapidly and breathy “Late! Late! I'm going to be late!”

He heard his own laughter, until suddenly he crashed against something.

“Oh, sorry” He looked down at Stebbins.

“You caught up, Baker” He looked like he wanted to add something else to that, but he didn't.

“I always would.” 

“Yeah, if you didn't, that wouldn't be like you” Stebbins traced his face, he didn't think a person could look so similar and so different at the same time, he supposed everything remained but changing.

Stebbins looked up, the sky was so clear on the other side. Baker got to his knees and put his palms out for Stebbins to climb with, Stebbins looked at him before laughing softly. 

“I don't need it” Stebbins took a step back and ran up, he stuck his feet up a small hole on the dirt and climbed up “But I suppose you need the help” He leaned down and offered Baker his hand.

Baker looked unimpressed at it “I shoulda known it.” 

Baker took it and Stebbins pushed him up “Yes, you should have, or how useless of a soldier do you think me?”

“Knowing you are here…”

"What are you implying, Baker?"

"I dunno if it's good or bad that you are here."

“What would you prefer?”

“The least bad one.”

“Yeah, you would” Stebbins stood up and walked forward, Baker noticed how he didn't even bother to shake the dust that had gotten on his hair off.

They arrived at the main plaza, Stebbins walked turning his head every few blocks, looking at all the houses and stores around them “This place is the same.”

“It hasn't been that long” Baker hadn't realized it himself until then, in reality, it hadn't been that long, it felt like it had been an eternity.

“A lot can change in a little time” Stebbins looked at their reflection on a black winery’s window. 

“It can, but this didn't.”

“No, it didn't” Stebbins suddenly stopped on his tracks, Baker made sure not to run into him this time.

“I want ice cream.”

“You got money for it?”

“You didn't need money last time.”

“Are you goin' to make me rob you ice creams whenever ya visit come?”

“Possibly.”

Baker looked at him then clicked his tongue “The stand’s on the other street” Baker nodded with his head to the other side.

“All these houses and stores look so similar, how do you distinguish them?”

“You get used to 'em.” 

Stebbins nodded and walked to the opposite street before retracing his steps, he saw an overgrown, turning yellow and black, plant that had been growing on the cracks of the pavement “And to the heat?”

“No. With the heat, you just learn to live with it.”

“You guys too?” Stebbins didn't elaborate any further, he walked in small steps, he gave Baker a few seconds to catch up to him and when Baker finally did Stebbins hurried and ran away again, Stebbins kept that going until he saw the ice cream stand.

They approached it, Baker stood in the center, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, he smiled showing, a little bit of, his fangs.

“An ice cream for a pair of poor unfortunate souls?” Baker began.

The man shook his head in a disapproving manner “Arthur Baker! You never come nowadays, and the one time you do, you do it to ask for free ice cream!” Baker opened his mouth to respond but the guy interrupted him “I don't want to hear none of it, Arthur!” The guy turned his eyes to Stebbins “And who’s this?”

Stebbins felt on edge “I-”

“Wait no! I know who you are!” He snapped his fingers a couple of times, it seemed to help him remember “You are that kid! From a couple of years back!” 

Stebbins looked at him, he felt himself losing focus, he had been here without his helmet, he didn't expect anybody to remember, nobody should remember, nobody should point at him and know anything, he had been here, this was a sudden reminder.

“Yeah” Baker stepped up again “So in memories's behalf...” He went onto having a back and forth with the seller until the man finally gave him, Stebbins didn't quite process anything of what they were saying.

“Fine! What are you going to want!?”

“Chocolate for me” Baker turned to him, he looked so gentle “Vanilla for you, right?” Stebbins nodded, yeah, he _had_ been here.

Baker passed him his cone, he began eating it slowly. 

“That wasn't sooo hard, now was it?” Stebbins said while licking it.

“Ice creams and savin’ your life, the same for you?” 

“Why, yes” Baker shook his head softly at that and began eating his own ice cream, a little bit of it got on his chin, they looked like moles on his clear skin. 

They walked further in town, the sun was starting to set, it shone upon them in a mix of reds and oranges now.

They stepped over bricks, Stebbins stopped to stare at a piece of concrete that had come off of the gray blocks. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Baker asked him, stopping in front of the concrete piece as well.

“This is _That_ street.” 

Baker furrowed his eyebrows, Stebbins didn't separate his eyes from the ground “ _That_ street?” He looked around, realization suddenly hit him, this was the street they had danced on last time “Oh.”

“You have remembered.”

“Yeah” Baker stepped in front of him, he had made up his mind “Do you want to dance again?” He offered him his hand.

“Again” Stebbins repeated it, he stared at his hand for a little too long, it was almost like he could feel the sun going down.

“Do you want to?” Baker looked so earnest it was laughable.

Stebbins felt his chest rise and fall, and carefully placed his hand on top of Baker’s “Yes” Baker squeezed his hand, closing his palm, covering his skin with warmth.

“Do you remember how we did this the first time?”

“Like this, correct?” Stebbins’s voice never wavered but he sounded nervous somehow. He placed his hand on Baker’s shoulder, he looked up at him, Baker never flinched at his touch, no matter how cold he always knew he was. 

“Do you ever forget anythin’?” Baker placed his hands on him guardedly, with true care.

“I don't” Stebbins said, feeling the weight of his hand on top of Baker’s shoulder “Unless I say I do.” 

“What do you say about this?”

“I don't.”

Baker spun him around, Stebbins heard himself yelp, when was the last time he had gotten caught off guard? He held himself tighter onto Baker, he felt the sturdy survivor flowers clinging to their feet as they passed before them, the night was out, Stebbins thought the stars could sing right now, the moon chased them as they went down the street. 

Baker’s feet shifted as they heard a black street cat meow at the moon, Stebbins was sure the nights must be alive, they spoke to them on all the sounds they could mistake as music right now.

Stebbins stepped on another piece of broken cement and tensed up.

“What happened?” Baker blinked twice as if somebody had just woken him up from a pleasant dream with cold water.

“A rock pierced through my boot” Baker gave him confused eyes, Stebbins stepped away from him and held up his leg showing Baker the slightly opened spot on his boot “All the money of a nation, Art, and they can't be bothered to invest on worthwhile boots or rifles” He sighed and placed his foot back down.

Baker shrugged “Mighta been those, the reason I'm still here” He reached up to his lips, traced the faint scar without meaning to. 

“I-” Stebbins had brought his hands up as if he were going to touch Baker's face, when he seemed to realize his own movements, he brought them down automatically, he looked at the ground, crossing his arms “I am sorry for that.”

“You speak like it happened yesterday” Baker didn't remove his hand, he smiled amusedly at Stebbins.

“Did it not?”

“It’s okay, Stebbins.”

“Is it?”

“It is” That wasn't really the worst thing Baker had ever experienced.

“If you say so.”

“I do” Baker followed him with his gaze “Ya kno’ what else I say?”

“What?”

“I'm taller than you now” Baker sounded extremely pleased all of a sudden.

“I will hit you in the face, Art Baker.”

“Thought you preferred kicking” Baker grinned at him.

“Art!” Stebbins’s eyes shot open, he avoided Baker’s gaze “...Please.”

Baker chuckled softly “It’s okay, Stebbins.”

“Yet again, I must repeat myself: If you say so” Stebbins felt sobered up now, the cat they had heard earlier jumped out of a phone booth’s roof.

Baker followed the noise “I had forgotten this was still here” Baker said approaching it. 

“This is so antique” Stebbins looked at his reflection on the phone booth, he titled his head and waved at it, it seemed to amuse him a great deal. 

“You, city people” Baker spoke on an even thicker accent.

“Me? City people?”

“Can't think of any otha’ people who call phone booths old.”

Stebbins stared at Baker’s reflection as he spoke “You caught me” Stebbins felt a small droplet of water fall on him “It’s raining.”

Baker put his palm out, and looked up, he felt nothing but the clouds were getting blacker and blacker “Drizzling now, but it will start pouring later...” He put his hand down. 

“And now we have to leave” Stebbins finished the phrase for him, Baker felt languished, he didn't want to leave just yet, but he supposed it wouldn't matter how much time they did get to spend together, he would feel this way no matter what. 

“Yeah” Baker looked at the ground, with his hand behind his neck “There's another tunnel over here.” 

“Is that why the pavement is so broken?”

Baker shrugged “Wanna take one?”

“Sure.”

Baker guided them to an alleyway, there was a huge hole surrounded by little pieces of broken pavement. it was being secured by a maintenance hole cover, Baker kneeled down and put it away. 

He offered him his hand “I know you don't need it but I want to.”

“If you know the other person doesn't want to, then you shouldn't offer, Baker.”

“I said: I know you don't need to. Do you not want to?”

“If I don't need it, then I shouldn't want it.”

“But?”

“Nothing. But you won't stop insisting if I don't” He traced the lines and scars in his hands, they were even more calloused now “Right?”

“I will, if you tell me to” Stebbins bit his inner lip and grabbed his hand “Thanks.”

“Why are you thanking me for?” Stebbins said, looking to the other side, Baker simply smiled and squeezed his hand. They jumped down.  
  


They walked slowly, together. Stebbins wouldn't rush past him right now, not when he held his hand so tightly like that. 

“This one looks different” The tunnel was grayer, less moldy, more rocks instead of dirt, they were burnt marks on the walls.

“That's only here. They all look the same at the core” Stebbins nodded.

They kept walking, seeing the scenario change to a more known one. Stebbins recognized some of his boots’s marks on the ground, Baker stopped in front of a hole shining down upon them with an orange glide, Stebbins smelled smoke.

Baker jumped up. 

“Art! No!” Stebbins grabbed his leg, trying to get him to come down, Baker held himself tighter and looked.

The barn was on fire. The long waves of flames blinded him, they crept up the walls and to the roof, he could taste ashes in his tongue, he looked and looked as the place was consumed, as everything went black and fell, he looked as _that_ kid ran out of the place, he looked on as the world burnt away, he felt himself burn with it.

It was starting to rain. 

“Art!” Stebbins tugged harder at him until he fell down “Art! We have to get away from here” Baker felt out it, he felt dizzy, he could see static behind his eyes “Art!” Stebbins shook his shoulders “We have to get away from here” His voice was lower now.

Stebbins grabbed his arm and dragged him deeper into the tunnel.

He forced him to run down the hall, he was yelling about something Baker couldn't hear, he looked so militar right now.

“It’s pouring now” Stebbins had finally stopped somewhere down the middle, had it been only about him he wouldn't have run at all, the possibility of the dirt catching on fire was far too low, but it could happen, it wasn't just about him anymore. 

They heard thunder and rain hit the ground relentlessly, it would go on for a while, maybe for forever. 

He had forced Baker to sit down, he sat down next to him and waited for the rain to die down. It was for the best. 

They waited for it until the tunnel fell in complete darkness and silence, the mold was sticking to their clothes, everything smelled green and humid. Stebbins drew circles on Baker’s back to call his attention.

“Do you want to go back?” Their voices felt far too big on the everlasting tunnel, they jumped back at them through the walls and ceiling, climbing through the ground and scaling through their legs, he wondered if sound could kill you, he knew it could. 

Baker didn't look at him, his eyes looked gray. 

“The rain has stopped, Art” He said “Do you want to go back?” 

“We have to go back someday” Baker left Stebbins’s hand slide off him.

“Yeah” He heard his knees pop as they stood up “We will.”

Stebbins offered him his hand, Baker took it wordlessly and they walked forward.

Stebbins climbed up, and helped Baker get up once they reached the entrance. The smell of fire was gone now, everything that reminded was the ashes, and the aroma of rain. 

The barn looked as black as the night.

They sat on silence in the middle of it. Stebbins said nothing to him, there was nothing worthwhile for him to say.

Baker picked up a piece of wet burnt wood and threw it against what remained of the circular window on the ceiling “I don't even have the right to be mad” His accent made his voice sound higher pitched.

“Why not?”

Baker picked another piece up and threw it “The kid who set it on fire” He looked down, he looked ashamed “Is the son of a black man… We burnt a cross on his lawn” His eyes were gone, as if he were reliving the moment beneath his eyelids “The fire got to his house” And he didn't elaborate any further. 

He didn't need to.

Stebbins didn't dare touch him, he would only make him colder. Droplets still fell from the broken ceiling, landing softly, coldly in front of them, the world had decided to cry with them.

“I got out after that” Baker spoke, his eyes shone with something close to dignity, but he was so ashamed, would there come a day where you didn't have to be ashamed, where sorry was enough. 

“You are not part of the Nightriders, anymore?” Stebbins wouldn't have guessed there were still Nightriders to be part of, like cockroaches, he remembered.

“No” Baker shook his head, ash and rain were falling on top of him like snow, they glitzed like coal “Why are you here? To catch them Mr. Squad?” Stebbins recognized his own words from so long ago.

“No” He stared at the bits of burnt stardust falling at their sides “I am not a Squad Member.”

“Uh?” Baker’s eyes always got wide when he was surprised “Why?”

“I realized I was a worthless soldier, if I couldn't even train my own heart to be still.”

Baker didn't know how to interpret what Stebbins’s said “And they let you out, like that?”

“No” He said “I can assure you that what I had to do in order to get out, you don't want to know" He put his finger in front of his lips in a silencing manner “Don't, Baker.”

“Are ya ever going to tell me anythin’?”

“Wait for it.”

The rain kept going and going all the way past dawn.

Baker had stood up and walked outside, he stared at the remnants of the barn, like he was presencing a coffin being put down, Stebbins followed him without a word, they stood like that until it seemed like the image had been burned into Baker’s mind. 

“Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I'm not goin’ to let you sleep on the streets.”

“I have done it before. I did it last night and you didn't seem to mind.”

“I knew you had the barn” Baker sighed “It doesn't mean you have to do it again” Stebbins said his name but Baker didn't let him finish “Sleep at my house.”

“I-” Stebbins felt dizzy suddenly “I can't.”

“You can.”

“I won't.”

“You like the streets better than my house.”

“I won't congest in your house, Baker.”

“Just come” He looked so tired.

“Art, I-” So so tired “Fine.”

They began walking back to Baker’s house.

The wet grass breathed underneath their shoes, Stebbins walked behind Baker, seeing his back rise and fall as he breathed. 

* * *

They stepped inside the house. Baker informed his mother of it, she was looking at a big broken clock on the wall, it said it was 3 o’clock, she seemed to not mind, Stebbins hadn't expected anybody to be awake at this hour, but Baker hadn't seemed surprised at all. 

She was vacant and simply nodded. It was so late or early, but she was awake, her eyes looked like they would never know rest when the light entering through the rusty window reflected on her. 

They went upstairs. Stebbins could hear the noises of the rest of the family safely tucked away in their rooms. 

Baker opened the door for him. Stebbins realized an issue.

“Where do you suppose I will sleep, Baker?”

“Oh.”

“I will go outside, Baker” Stebbins shook his head, it was a little funny, but it was reliving for the most part. 

He turned around for the door. but Baker caught his wrist before he could walk out “No” Stebbins felt his fingers boring into his palms, they didn't allow Squads to have nails that went further the tip of the finger “You are already here, you should stay.” 

“Sleeping on this floor and on another is not at all different, Baker.”

“You don't have to sleep on the floor” He looked down, Stebbins could barely make up the contour of Baker’s face against the light sneaking through the window, the little hits of blush and freckles scattered around his face visible, thanks to the moon. 

“Where will I sleep then? On a chair in the kitchen-”

“You can” He interrupted, mumbling “Sleep on the bed.”

Stebbins’s eyes widened “Where will you sleep then?”

“I sleep on the floor!” Baker stage whispered, he was always mindful of everybody else in the house.

“It’s your bed, Baker” That point seemed really important to hammer in right now “It's _your_ bed, Baker.”

“I know! I'm the one telling you to use it.”

“But it’s yours-”

“But-!”

“I won't sleep on another person’s bed.”

“I'm not letting you sleep on the floor either” Stebbins tried to pull away again, Baker looked down at his hands, they were still holding onto Stebbins’s for dear life “We could...” He seemed to be biting his tongue “Sleep… on the same… bed.”

“You…?” Stebbins trailed off, he felt Baker’s skin on his own and little more “Want to… do that?”

“We could…” 

“We don't have to.”

“But-” He felt like he was choking on his own words “I don't want you to sleep on the ground, or on the streets, and you don't want me to sleep on the ground either!”

“I… am sure there's a lot of other solutions to this” Stebbins felt like he couldn't think of any, though.

“What other ones you got?”

“Why should I be the one to think about it?” It was hard to modulate his voice at the moment.

“Stebbins!” Stebbins looked at the bed. Was it even big enough for the both of them? “Let's let it be.”

“Art, I...” He breathed in, he felt his pulse beating on Baker’s grip “...Fine.”

Baker looked at their hands, connecting them for one more second before letting go, Stebbins brought his wrist up to his chest, caressing the spot where Baker’s fingers had been on, with far more strength than needed. 

“You should lay down first” Stebbins barely heard his own voice “Your bed.”

Baker’s shadow looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't, he quickly backed off and laid on his bed, Stebbins traced the trajectory between the bed and himself with his eyes.

“Must you always stare at me, Art?”

“Can you feel my stare?”

“More than you would know.”

Stebbins sat on the edge of the bed, his feet felt like air, he wondered if this is how walking on the moon was, or drawing, or if things like this even felt like something else felt, not everything has to be like something else was.

He sat on the corner of the bed, the sheets were warm, they held onto the heat of Art Baker like the Earth held onto the heat of the sun, and he had been doing that all along. 

“Can you hear my breathing, Art?” He supposed his heart would be racing if this had happened years prior, his insides didn't really work that way anymore.

“All the way over here” He heard the breathing coexisting with his voice.

Stebbins laid down, his hair splayed over the white sheets and the corners of the pillows, he looked like sundrops growing.

He looked at Baker from the corner of his eyes, he felt like saying something else, he could feel the flowers growing on his lungs.

“May your Guardian Angel take care of you tonight” The old prayer fell off Baker’s lips without a second thought, Stebbins could only think: Yeah, he may. 

At some point, Stebbins fell asleep.

* * *

Stebbins’s eyes shot open, he felt his torso lose contact with the bed, and an arm holding him up. 

His lips pursed together, digging and getting redder. Stebbins didn't scream.

Baker dragged him back up, he squinted his eyes, his hair ruffled thanks to the pillows “What happ’ned? D’ yo’ have a nightmare?”

He didn't remember “No.”

“Ya ‘lmost fell off tha bed” Baker was grinning, he looked so amused, his eyes were dropping, falling closed again and again.

“I woke you up” He spoke softly, he didn't want to disturb the moment. Baker looked so lulling.

“A little bit” Baker gestured with all fingers enclosed in his hand, except for his thumb and index. 

“I apologize” Baker left his head fall back against the pillow, Stebbins sat upright slowly, he would have to find the way to sneak out “I will be leaving now, Art.”

“Why you always gotta leave?” Baker held onto his wrist, Stebbins could detach himself with one movement and get out, but he didn't.

“Why must you do this to me, Baker?”

“Do what?” The sun’s light entered the window, making shadowy golden lights across their faces, and their sheets, it made Stebbins’s sleepier.

“I'm so tired, Art.”

“Sleep lil’ longer, Stebbins.”

“When did I become so easy to convince?” Stebbins let himself fall again, he could already see all the issues they could get into, but he was so so tired.

Baker’s hair intermingled with his own, the light lit up his freckles like constellations. Baker was astral.

“Go back to sleep, Art.” 

He saw his eyes close, he wondered if he was dreaming or having a nightmare.

* * *

<<<Artie!>>> Stebbins woke up after the screaming and knocking of a little girl at their door <<<Breakfasts’s Ready!>>>

He shook his head a few times to wake himself up, he reached at his sides for Baker’s face, he was still soundly asleep.

“How you are able to sleep through this?” He rocked him back and forth “Wake up, My Petit Prince, your breakfast is ready” He said, moving him side to side until Baker’s eyes finally began to flutter open.

“Uh?” Baker covered his eyes from the sun's rays, Stebbins nodded to the door, the knocking repeated.

“They are waiting for you” He chuckled “Artie.”

Baker ignored the jab, Stebbins looked pleased like this “We be goin’ soon” Baker spoke to the door, the girl replied with a loud cheerful ‘Okay!’ And the knocking stopped.

“You” Stebbins said, pointing at Baker's heart “Will be going soon. Not me.”

Baker popped himself up on his elbows, half lying against the white wall, and half sitting upright, he tilted his head “Why not, Stebbins?”

“How greedy” Stebbins sat upright, he let his feet drag on the ground “You already had me here all night, and now, you also want me here all morning?”

“It ain't greed, I know my mom made breakfast for you too.”

“Eat it or give it to another one of your siblings, I’m sure you are hungry too.”

“So you’re hungry too.”

“That doesn't matter.”

He knew there were some things he couldn't argue against Stebbins about, if Stebbins didn't want the food, Baker knew a lot of people who did “Are you, at least, going to come down to say goodbye?”

“No” Stebbins turned to look at the window behind them “I am going to sneak out.”

“How am I gonna explain that?”

“Say it was a dream and I was never here.”

“But you were.”

“Was I?”

“Where will you be now?”

“You should already know where” Stebbins leaned towards him “Go now, Baker. Your breakfast will get cold.”

“Alright” He left the sunlight bash over him. Baker stood up and walked confidently towards the door, he looked back only once and then walked out, Stebbins mouthed him a goodbye and then got out.

* * *

Baker figured he did know where Stebbins would like to meet up, now that there was no barn left, that is. 

Baker rode up to the tree with a golden bullet in his motorcycle, though now it was rather brazen and oxidized, time had passed for all of them, even for that merciless piece of metal. He reflected, as a sort of afterthought, the blood stain on his bike had gotten bigger throughout the years, maybe it was the ghost of its old owner making his way through it, he was sorry he couldn't give it back now.

He looked up at the tree, squinting his eyes at the light that scurried through the leaves and branches, the tree had grown past, and around it, continuing to live even with its past. 

  
“Hey” Baker greeted up.

“You did know” Stebbins jumped off the tree “As expected” Baker felt like had passed an important test.

“You still have it” Stebbins approached the bike, staring at the blood stain like a beauty mark.

“‘Course I do” He placed his hands on the handles “Wanna go somewhere?”

“Are you going to get me more ice cream?”

“No” Baker closed his palms on the handles “But I am gettin’ ya something else for free.”

“What?”

“Wait and see.”

Stebbins looked at him with one eyebrow raised “I will see.”

“I brought the bike along because it’s far.”

“And because you think it's cool.”

“That too” Baker granted him and Stebbins nodded.

“So you are going to take me to a far away place, in your motorcycle, to get something for free; Are we going to rob a store?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Maybe. Are we?”

“Wait and see.”

“How mean, Baker.”

“Real mean” He stepped to the side to allow Stebbins access “Get up, Stebbins.” 

Stebbins walked behind the bike, placed his foot on the black/silver pedal, and got up. Baker took a moment before doing the same, he put his hands on the handles and turned them twice, the motor made a warm inner noise, it sounded far smoother than Stebbins had expected it to, Baker took care of this bike the way a mother took care of her favorite child. 

They went off.

“Baker” Stebbins was holding himself to Baker’s waist with one hand, they weren't going too fast right now “Give me a clue.”

“About where we are going?”

  
“Yes” Stebbins put his other hand on his back, he trailed the pattern of Baker’s shirt with his fingers. 

“Hey” Baker swung his head “Don't do that! You are tickling me!” Baker laughed heartily.

“Good” He put more pressure on it, going down around his ribs “Tell me.”

“Don't! Stebbins!” Baker held the handles harder, carving its figures into his tanned palms “We are gonna crash!”

“Boring” He softly set his other arm around Baker’s waist, feeling the vibrations, and the ups and downs of the motorcycle on his own skin. 

“Thank you” Baker’s laughter died down, Stebbins wished he could see his eyes, strands of their hair floated around them.

“But tell me.”

“Wait and see.”

“Art!” He spoke over the engine, it was getting a little louder now.

“Stebbins!”

“Give me a hint.”

Baker laughed again, drowning out all the exterior noise.

* * *

They had been riding all day, had gone from the woods to an almost deserted small road, talking quietly until early night fell. 

Baker clicked his tongue “Just right.”

“You are taking me to a far away place at night. We are going to steal a store.”

“That your running theory?” Baker took a left, entering to a place that looked like a parking lot, a woman in a booth stopped them from going in, a fence stopped them from going any further.

“Tickets?” She wasn't looking at them, instead focused on the computer protruding out of her booth, and into their view, it looked out of place in the still rurality that surrounded them, and kept going for miles and miles. She looked and sounded half-dead.

“Hey” Baker said, calling her attention down to them.

“Wha-? Oh, it’s you” She pressed a button and the fence went up “Haven't seen you around in a while, much less on your bike.”

“Yeah” Baker shrugged, his shoulders apologetically, gave her his warm, all-whites smile and began talking to her about something, Stebbins drowned it out, conversations like this weren't ones he understood, conversations like this weren't ones he ever thought he would have any want, or need to understand.

“‘Kay” She waved at them, after she was done talking with Baker “Have fun, boys.”

“Yup” And they drove in.

“Where are we?” Baker felt the smallest thing of shock, but Stebbins had never eaten an ice cream until three years ago, so he supposed this was expected. 

Stebbins looked around them, lines of cars shining on the night, and one big white projector screen in the middle.

“A car-cinema” Baker parked the bike on one of the last rows, he got off the motorcycle and Stebbins followed him, they stood center. Stebbins tried to get as many details in as he could, the black and shiny floor, and the smell of popcorns with caramel on, the stands near the big white panel, how many things had he never experienced.

“This is a theater” Stebbins didn't say it as a question, but it sort of was.

“Yeah, but outside.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cool” Stebbins was about to say something, but Baker interrupted him “Not everythin’ needs a deep reason to be, sometimes you can simply enjoy things.”

“Everything needs a reason to be, Baker.”

“Then the reason is: that it’s cool” Baker directed his gaze to the popcorn stands “C’mon, let’s go get some.”

Stebbins stared at his back as he walked before him, he slowly went behind him, looking at the cars like they had cameras, microphones and sweep scopes hidden on them, and could see right past him, through him. He felt like an animal entrapped.

They dodged the lines of cars, and arrived to the waiting line in front of the popcorn stand “Have you ever had popcorn before, Stebbins?” Baker realized how weird that question must sound to everybody else as an afterthought. 

“Once” Only once, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't remember how it tasted like. 

“Really?” Baker was a little surprised “When?”

“Before” Back then, before he was a Squad, or 12, or no-first-name-Stebbins. _Before._

“Okay” Baker nodded as if he were trying to rationalize his answer, and everything that it implied even though he had no true way of understanding it “Do you like them?”

“A little.”

“With caramel?” And there it was, that bright smile.

“You are already planning on buying them, aren't you, Baker?”

“Yeah!”

“I suppose, I could like them” Stebbins said quietly, the exterior noise seemed so meaningless right now, like none of these people, or their music, or their conversations, had anything to do with them.

Baker looked back to give him a smile, before the people in front of them got their orders and the server called to them. 

“Hey” Stebbins was starting to recognize that tone on Baker's voice.

“Don't come here. You have no money” Stebbins looked at the guy selling the popcorn, he was one of Baker's siblings that had been drinking beer in front of the T.V.

“Please” Baker put his hands up like a prayer in front of his brother.

“No. Go away. You have no money.”

“You are my brother! Lend me!”

“No!”

“Please! I already came all the way here, I have no gas to go back with.”

“You shouldn't have come here at all!”

“Please!”

“With each generation, this family only gets dumber.” 

“Lend me!”

“Go away!”

“Uhmm?” Stebbins blinked twice and stepped away. He waited on the sidelines for a little, until Baker proudly received them, and walked back to him.

“Here’s the popcorn” Baker showed him a big red and white caramel popcorn box on his arms, and one big soda on the other.

“Did that actually worked?”

“I told you, I would get you some.”

“I will not question it.”

“Let's get back to the bike” He passed Stebbins the soda, and they walked back through the maze of cars “Have you been to the movies before?”

“We have been shown films on reserved spots, but I don't think that would apply to your definition of ‘To the movies’.”

Baker wanted to ask him why they had been shown whatever they had been shown, he wanted to know everything that Stebbins had ever done or seen, but he knew better, he knew that this was another one of those things that he wouldn't want once he actually got it. He loved spending time with Stebbins, and he knew Stebbins was nightmare fueling.

“Okay” They got to the bike, and Baker's brother approached them, carrying a speaker and a cable.

“You" He pointed at Baker "Put it” Then threw them at Baker’s chest, Baker didn't miss a beat and caught them immediately, Stebbins realized Baker had fairly good reflexes.

“Thanks!” Baker spoke with a thick accent to him.

“I just want you to know I hate you.”

“Thanks!”

“Why did my mom have to have so many dumbass children?”

“Like you brother?”

“Shut up!” <<<Get back to your job!>>> A high pitched squeal called Baker’s brother back to his stand, he snarled at Baker one more time before running back from whence he came.

“You have quite the family, Baker.” 

“I know” He looked a little tired but contented.

Stebbins nodded, then pointed to the cable and the speaker “What do you do with that?”

Baker held both things up and began explaining “This is how the sound from the movie comes to us, they have some speakers around the projector, the big white wall there” He signaled to it with his open palm “And this cable connects to this smaller speaker, that connects to those bigger speakers.”

“I see” Stebbins felt younger somehow, being explained things so simply like this again “Thank you, Art.”

“No problem” Baker proceeded to do all that “You should get up before me.”

“Why?”

“So you can see it better, because I'm taller than you.”

“Oh, Quiet you” Stebbins turned his nose at him but got on top of the bike, both his legs swinging on the left side, blocking Baker's way to get up “Get on from the other side, the parts of the machinery that could burn you are off, though I suppose you are used to it.”

“Legs off” Baker pushed his legs to the side and got up regardless.

“How rude, you should at least buy me dinner first, Art Baker.” 

“I brought you here, but you already spend the night with me, anyways.”

“Ah” Stebbins heard himself wheeze “You have gotten quicker to the punch, Baker.” 

“It’s probably your bad influence.”

“I'm a bad elder, I see.”

“You are a bad influence, ain’t gon lie.” 

“Your honesty breaks my heart, Art” Stebbins blinked twice, with his big wide eyes at him, a hand on his chest.

Suddenly the white wall came to life and the speaker resonated, a radio host voice said **10** while a black and white counter appeared before them.

“It’s about to start” Baker whispered leaning down, the sound going straight to Stebbins’s ears. 

The countdown finished and the theme song of the movie began, Stebbins stared with full attention at it, Baker loved seeing the way his usually unimpressed half-lidded eyes opened wide, how the washed-out colors on the far way monitor projected, and reflected into his eyes, how they danced around his iris, like koi fish on ponds. 

Stebbins clutched the seat with one hand as the movie progressed, it was like the outside world had suddenly disappeared for him, everything that seemed to matter was to see this movie right now, Baker was alright with it.

He ate the popcorn on his own, he almost didn't want to interrupt Stebbins’s wonder at the movie, he looked almost happy, but he thought he needed to taste the popcorn a little too.

Baker touched his shoulder to get Stebbins’s attention.

“Baker?” Stebbins only looked at him through the corner of his eye, still leaning into the bike’s front to see the screen better.

“Want some popcorn?”

“Ah?” Stebbins raised an eyebrow and looked at him, then slowly to the popcorn, he always had that slight look of danger on his eyes, like he was always calculating how much damage everything could cause him. He looked like prey in the wild.

“They are good.” 

“You say that because you like them.”

“I like ‘em because they are good.”

“You don't exactly have a history of only liking good things, Baker.”

“No” He looked at Stebbins “I don't” He held them towards him “But these ones are good.”

“Good like the movie?”

“If you think the movie is good.”

“I do.”

“Then these are good too.”

Stebbins slowly reached out for a handful, he dug his hand deep into the box like he was hunting for something, then he brought it up with one swift movement, causing some of the popcorn to spill through the sides, he brought them up to his mouth and he ate it all on one bite. 

“You coulda take it easy, they aren't going to disappear” But he was happy to see him try it.

“They taste good” In reality, he didn't have anything to reference them against, they could be the most mediocre caramel popcorn in the world and he wouldn't know, but he had liked them, he wondered if even that really meant anything if he couldn't even distinguish what he truly liked or disliked.

“Told ya” But he was happy to see Baker happy. 

Baker sipped the soda “Have some too” He passed it to Stebbins, the white and blue striped straw moved around until the mouth ended up facing Stebbins. 

He gave it on quick sip “Is this… cherry?” He held the big vase up to eye level “You have cherry soda?”

“Got somethin’ against it?”

“Of all the flavors, cherry” Stebbins grabbed the straw and played it with it, flattening it under his thumb and index finger “Wonderful.”

“And it's not soda” Baker said without a trace of hesitation.

“What is it, Baker?”

“Coke.”

“It’s not a coke, Baker.”

“It's a coke. The brand or flavor don't matter.” 

“That is the most countryside thing I have heard you say, besides calling your motorcycle ‘She’, Baker.”

“It’s coke.”

“Cherry coke, I see” He leaned down to it, having to tuck a little of his hair behind his ear, he hadn't realized how much it had grown, and slowly sipped on it with his eyes closed, he wanted to experience everything he could, as much as he could, he felt muted gray and gone in every way, but he wanted to experience whatever Baker managed to, with as much intensity as he could.

He sipped on it until he felt it going up his nose, then he swallowed it all.

“Breath” Baker took it from him, sipping on it again, they stared at each other's eyes, Stebbins had that look again, Baker felt like the only thing in the world too.

“Boring.”

And then it was gone, Stebbins’s eyes went back to the movie screen. Baker kept sipping on it.

Baker stared at Stebbins’s back the entire time, he saw the right moment it tensed up, for just one micro instant, as the movie suddenly stopped.

The squeaky voice was back.

“Everybody! We are going to be stopping the movie! To see The Long Walk’s Lottery Election!”

“Uh?” Baker heard his voice and Stebbins’s at the same time, he didn't want to hear any of this at all.

The movie shifted around to the side, leaving nothing visible except for half the face of the protagonist, and black and white spots turning yellow, like it was burning, like a corpse of sorts.

And for a bit, he almost thinks it’s bad a joke even though it has no reason to be, they fix it, it's all center now, and he feels gone, the chuckling noise the movie made was replaced with silence, and then a booming voice, and bright colours that danced on nobody's eyes. 

The lottery was just starting, the woman with a pretty microphone spoke in her high pitched faked voice <<The Lottery is about to commence! So make sure you are tuned in!>>

The world around them cheered, they cheered loud, like they are saying God came down, they all cheered at the same time, like at church when the pastor man spoke, Baker didn't even get to hear what the pastor said half the time, but he cheered nonetheless, was he meant to cheer now? He felt like he had to, he didn't. 

“Baker” Stebbins had turned to him, he hadn't even realized, he didn't know he had been paying so much attention, his eyes felt teary somehow “Let’s leave.” 

He blinked twice, stuttering “What? Why?”

“I-” Stebbins thought maybe he should whisper it into Baker’s ear, but Baker already knew so much, and did so much, he thought maybe it didn't really matter at all “I wanted to watch the movie, they are not playing it any longer, so I have no interest to be here any longer either. Let’s leave.”

“But I-” He wanted to know, he hadn't come here because of that, not really, he didn't think so, he had come to show Stebbins the place, but he should have expected it, he knew they did it usually, and if he were to know the news here, wouldn't it be better to know them far away form most ears, somewhere most of his family didn't have to hear. 

“You, what, Baker?” Stebbins looked at him in the eyes, Baker searched the screen instead, he almost thought Stebbins spoke with fear, but more than that, he thought Stebbins wouldn't know what fear was most days, or any days.

“I-I want to see.”

“There's nothing for you to see here.”

“I have to see, Stebbins.”

The crowd cheered again, louder each time, this was enough to drive anybody insane, and they both knew it. One of the assistants pulled out a new number, and smiled, she made sure to correctly pronounce the name of some boy he had never met, who he may never meet. 

“What?” Stebbins looked at him, his eyes twitched, his teeth clashing together, Baker felt like he was looking at him through a telescope, like he wasn't quite here, like he was wherever they did the lottery at, at Maine, or wherever else, whenever else, except right now “What do you have to see, Baker?” Stebbins put his hands on his shoulder, Baker knew they were there, but he didn't feel them.

“I need to, Stebbins! I need to!” He backed away from his touch like it burned, it felt like it did, the long sleeves Stebbins was wearing hung between them, Stebbins looked so small on his shirt.

“Art! What did you do!?” Stebbins was screaming, but Baker couldn't tell, he could barely hear him through The Crowd and its everlasting noise. The Crowd cheered again, it almost felt like they were cheering for them, if only they knew.

“I'm sorry!” He yelled over the cacophony the best he could.

<<Now for the tenth number out of the basket! Arthur Baker!>>

“Art?” Stebbins’s face was framed by the projector’s light, his hair fell heavy on top of his eyes, he looked confused, really confused, as if he had just heard the most unbelievable news in the whole world “Art?” He repeated, eyes wide, and mouth clenched so hard together his teeth clinked “Art!?” He reached up for Baker's shirt without even thinking about it, Stebbins caught the finest trace of the scar he had given him years ago “Answer me!” 

Baker opened his mouth, a weak meaningless sound came out, because what was he supposed to say about it, yes I signed up to the Walk, I'm sorry, I'm not sorry, you did worst stuff, I'm sorry, or maybe he was only meant to look down, look down at the cracked dirty floor, exactly like he had done when the approving letter had first arrived.

Back then he hadn't been home, his mother had received it while cleaning the outside sidewalk, the mailman had winked at her like he had already read it, he had arrived to see her leaning into the kitchen’s table like the earth was shaking and ending and she didn't know what to do, with her mouth closed, looking like she had linen knitted through her skin, and her eyes hanging low, she had given him the letter, an approving seal on it, he hadn't felt any happiness over it back then, he didn't think he would have felt it even if his mother hadn't been there, he was proud of it, he supposed, one thing in his life he had actually done right, he supposed. 

“Why won't you say anything?” Stebbins was whispering now “Let's leave now before they approach us.”

The Crowd was already forming around them, whispers of Baker’s name, turning heads trying to get a grasp of their faces, and of the faces on the screen, Stebbins covered himself with both hands, looking down, too much noise, it was giving him a migraine, he felt his blood running cold, his eyes swelling out of his skull.

“Let's leave now!” The voice in the screen seemed to only be getting louder, he knew where this was going.

<<And now! Number 21!>> Stebbins blocked out his first name, he never wanted to hear it again, but he knew it was him, he knew it without even having to turn to it, because who else was it going to be? Because it had to be him, it always had to be him <<Stebbins!>>

“Baker! Drive or I will!” Baker didn't react, so he did.

Stebbins switched positions, right leg flying to the other side, both feet on the pedals, laying his whole chest on top of the motorcycle, it was a custom in a way, this bike wasn't like the ones he was used to driving. 

He grabbed both handles and pushed them to the max, the speaker fell, still making noise, still yelling out names, his name, Baker’s names, meaningless names, he ran it over, the whole wheel going and pressing down on it, until the sound died down becoming a black static low ghastly thing and deadening, but the noise was still there, out there, inside his head, everywhere. 

They got out, he couldn't discern anything on that grand and terrible orchestra of screams, he couldn't tell if anybody was yelling to them, past them, through them, he thought there was, there always was. He had felt followed since birth, like prey. When something learns that it is prey it never stops running away.

He drove out, scalding the bike and the cars nearby, breaking the speakers's cable that had fallen underneath them, and he went far into the night.

Wherever into the night, it didn't matter, but far away, everywhere that wasn't there.

* * *

The bike stopped somewhere around a valley, the wheels were caught up with marks, dew that looked like tears and withering grass.

Stebbins groaned pulling on the pedals and handles, but it didn't move.

“It ran outta gas” It was the first thing Baker had said since Stebbins had driven them away, his voice was hoarse and mellow, like he had just done got crying, but he hadn't, he was sure he hadn't, his eyes didn't water anymore. 

“I had forgotten you mentioned that.”

Stebbins left his hands drop down the handles and jumped off the motorcycle. He walked away from it, tumbling it a little as he did.

“When were you going to tell me you signed for The Walk?” Baker asked him, seeing Stebbins’s footsteps marking themselves on the grass

“When I won, Baker!” His voice was harsh and unforgiving, Stebbins knew this was a cold simple fact, that was what he was going to do. Stebbins knew he would go to The Walk, he knew he would win, and then he could come back, come back as many times as he felt like, never leave if he didn't feel like. That is how things are going to be.

“You think you are going to win!?” Baker felt his eyes twitching “You think you are going to win!?” He jumped off the bike as well, but his legs didn't feel like his own right now, he could feel the pulsations of blood running down on them, he felt himself trembling as he ran to Stebbins. 

Baker grabbed and turned Stebbins to him, leaving red marks on his milky pale neck, on the bits and pieces Baker could see coming through his own shirt “You think you are going to win!?”

“I know!” Stebbins’s hands flew up on top of Baker’s, his hands were full of veins, he tried to tear them apart, far away from himself, from everything that had to breathe the same hair as him, but Baker didn't bulge, he kept hold of him “I know!”

“What do you know!?”

“I know! I will win!”

“How!? How do you know that!?”

“I will win!”

“Why!?” He shook his shoulders “Why, Stebbins!? Why!?”

“I can! I will!” Stebbins finally managed to push him away, Baker slouched down but simply ran back to him.

“Why!?”

“Why, what, Baker!? Uh!?” He held onto Baker’s arms, like he was pushing him away, like he was pushing him closer, he held onto him for dear life, he held onto him like he could pop his veins with his fingernails “What do you want to know, Art!? What do you need to know, Art!?”

“Why?” Baker's voice had lost its strength, there was no point in yelling here, he knew Stebbins would only hear what he wanted to hear.

“You want to know why I'm going to The Walk!? That it, Baker!? That's what all of this was for!?”

“I do” Baker's voice soft tenured and like a little boy’s squeak, he was afraid too, sometimes. His hands went down slowly from Stebbins's neck to his shoulders, touching his collarbones they were sharp like knives, almost nothing about Stebbins was soft to the touch, and Baker never ever wanted to let go of him again.

“You want to know what I'm going to ask for when I win!?” Stebbins said, Baker supposed it didn't count as yelling but it was still strong, still too strong, too strong, and too sharp. 

“I do” He nodded, barely feeling his head on top of his cervix.

“I am going to ask, to be invited home for tea” And there was a true childish gleam behind Stebbins's eyes, like he could really see it, happening right in front of him, his every heart's desire, it only reminded Baker of the fire.

The fire at the barn, the fire at the crux, all the other fires he had been on, the burning scars on his hands, on his mouth, on his stomach, the marks of hunting boots that never quite faded from any of his clothes, that never quite faded from his skin, the screaming, their yelling, the sad face of that old black man, and the sadder face of that young black boy, his own saddest face hanging onto his bike for dear life, because it was everything he had, and he wasn't going to cry like that, but he was never coming back, and maybe the wet spots on his handles and his wheels weren't dew and rain, but tears.

“What are you seeing?” Stebbins’s voice had gone back to its breathy, low nature, but he sounded way younger than Baker had ever known him, way younger than back when they were younger, it was like he was asking him if he could see his perfect tea party as well. 

“You are insane” He felt like he was holding onto Stebbins hard enough to leave marks and bruises in the shape of love bites on him, but he knew he wasn't “You are crazy, Stebbins.” 

“You haven't got the most minimum idea, of what or who I am, Arthur Baker” And Baker almost felt like crying all over again, because Stebbins wasn't wrong, Stebbins wasn't wrong one bit.

“I know that if you really think that, out of the whole 200 other guys who are going to The Walk, you will definitely win without no doubt, I know that's crazy.” 

“I know I will, nobody else is like me.”

“Like you? How are you like?”

“You don't know how I am like” It almost sounded like a question, like he wanted Baker to spring up and tell him he knew, that he knew everything, but he didn't, and Stebbins wouldn't have believed it for a second. 

“No, I don't.”

“I am his little rabbit dripping red” Stebbins whispered almost to himself, but there was no missing his voice, there was no missing him, no missing him unless you did of course, and Baker never did “I will win.”

Stebbins could see it behind his eyes, living on his mind, breathing through his skin, all the training, all of it, his very first day as a Squad, the last Walk he had presenced, how he ended it, one bullet straight through the big blonde's head as he laid dead on the ground, pieces of his brain and nose, his coagulated blood seeding the road, the smell of death, ghosts, and ashes, the deep murmur of The Crowd like an earthquake, and their stepping, they had trampled those kids to death, his Father's harrowing face as he introduced the world to the Winner, he had formed him for this, designed him for it, he would win, he had to win. He was his little White Rabbit Dripping Red, a little cutout on a stick to make the rest, the dogs, run faster and farther and never catch up. And never ever catch up.

“I will win” Stebbins's eyes went wide, his pupils and irises shivering, his hair fell heavy and flat on top of his skull, he looked unreal, like a mannequin “I will win” Stebbins repeated “So you” He said pointing at Baker’s chest with nothing but his laser point eyes, because Baker knew Stebbins was the sort of shot who didn't need extra help “Need to pull out.” 

“Yes, that's what you need to do. You need to pull out. You are going to go back to your home, and call the number and never even think about The Long Walk again, Baker.”

“You can't do that” Baker was suddenly mad, it was too unfair “You can't tell me not to go while you are going” It suddenly hit him how they were both going, they had both been chosen for it, on this year they had both gone to take the tests, how many times had Stebbins done this, Baker had only tried it once, but he didn't have the slightest clue if Stebbins had tried it more than once, before he met him the first time? After? The time after? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?

His own test hadn't been that special, no, it actually hadn't been special at all, he had been walking onto the bigger town, the one definitely too far away, he had walked there, he hadn't wanted to ride his bike for a long while after _That_ hadn't even wanted to look at it all, he had come home on it, left it lying on the ground without caring for it, hadn't used it until today, maybe the dead man who had owned the bike first had cursed it, hadn't liked it when he pulled out, he had died with the Nightriders, how dared Baker do otherwise, aren't you simply meant to do what everybody around you does?

Baker had chosen to do otherwise.

Baker had chosen to pull out, and then to go to the bigger town walking, for no real reason except to Walk, and there it was, a big poster on bold black letters.

They were having the Long Walk Tests on the plaza, and it had been so easy to just walk into it, he had already walked all the way there so why not go inside too, why not greet the receptionist lady, and take one of the papers, and struggle to read it all while standing up because all the chairs are already being occupied by half the town, and then laugh at all the dumb questions once he got them, and then do the physical exams, he didn't feel like they were hard at all, he probably spent way more time thinking about what to answer on the test, and hesitating, while also not caring about what to answer, because there were a million other boys already there, who cared? 

The physical exams had felt way too easy, he supposed he was simply used to it, not like he was trying to brag, it had all felt easy, simple and plain, he had walked in, he had spent probably an hour and a half there, then he had walked outside and back to his house. 

He didn't expect to be approved at all, when he got the letter it wasn't a joyous occasion at all, and he didn't expect to be selected at the lottery, it was all a matter of luck there, and he hadn't felt lucky at all in a good while, it was supposed to be a blessing, to get into The Walk was a miracle, a pride, the best thing a person his age could possibly dream of, and he hadn't deserved it at all. 

It had all been too easy.

“You have to, Baker. You will die if you don't” Stebbins’s pupils were focused on him entirely now, they looked as black as a corpse's ones “You will die, Baker.” 

“You will die too!”

“I won't” Stebbins said, voice dipping lower now “But if you go, and you try to compete against me, you will.”

“You wouldn't hesitate, would ya?” He looked at him in the eyes, with a feeling of emptiness now.

“I won't” Stebbins was so cold to the touch “That's why, I am not going to let you go, Art.” 

“You are goin’.”

“It’s different.”

“How? How is it any different? You are going to walk, and you are goin' to die like the rest.”

“I'm not-”

“How can you be sure?”

“I am going to win, Art-”

“You don't really know that. What if you don't win?”

“I will. I'm his little rabbit didn't you hear? A piece of metal rabbit to fuel the others, but they can't catch me, no matter how hard they try, I will be fine, it's you who has to worry, it's you who has to pull out.”

“Who’s rabbit?”

Stebbins’s eyes widened, then he shut them close for a whole long minute, he placed both hands on his temples as he was in sudden great pain, like he had just heard what he himself said.

“You don't understand me, Baker. You don't have to understand me, Baker. But you have to pull out, Baker, or you will die. You will die if you don't, that you do have to understand, that if you let another day pass by, if you let another pull out date pass you by, you are closer to dying, you said so yourself, that when you are not recovering you are dying, right now you are dying, is that it? Do you want to die?” And Stebbins felt pain, because he didn't know of other reasons to go to The Walk, because nobody really needed another reason to go to The Walk.

“Everybody has to die” Baker said softly, almost like a sigh, his voice sounded of the clouds. 

“But not next month, and not in such a manner, Art, you don't have to do it, Art. Don't make me compete against you” Because I will but I don't want to “Go back home, Art, you need to sleep and make an important call.”

Stebbins walked away after that, Baker didn't know where, he supposed it didn't really matter where, Stebbins looked like a ghost walking as he went far away into the night, and into the dawn, and into whatever else there was after it all, and he supposed that's how he himself would look like if he didn't choose to do anything now.

He went back home, he dragged the bike behind him, like he had dragged every coffin of his family’s behind his back, like Jesus must have carried his crux.

And of course, he didn't sleep, but his bed felt emptier than usual, and his closet was missing a nice red and white striped shirt.

* * *

Baker walked down the stairs softly, not making a sound, he wanted to get out before anybody chose to ask him any questions.

“You were chosen” His mother stood in front of the clock, she was carrying new water on a porcelain mini casserole, to put inside the plastic flowers vase. 

“Yeah” He didn't ask her how she knew, his mother, to him, she looked like she knew everything in the world, everything she wasn't supposed to know, maybe that's why she looked so miserable all the time, she was carrying too much, definitely too much.

“Are you going to go?” His mother always made sure her accent didn't show too much, Baker thought she was embarrassed by it, Baker’s accent always showed so much.

Baker didn't know if that was the normal question to ask, 'Are you going to go?' instead of don't go, or please go, or you will die, or you will win, all those things seemed so unimportant to his mother, he couldn't quite tell if they actually were. 

“I'm thinkin’” That was the honest answer, he was thinking about it, there was no other answer for him to give her, he didn't know if she even wanted or needed or asked herself about another answer. One mouth less to feed, that would be a relief to all of them, for sure, but he wouldn't be able to lump himself in together with all of them if he chose to leave them, and wouldn't that be the clearest show of love in the world, wouldn't that be being grateful to Mother Nature herself, going back from whence he came on his own two feet. 

“Give yourself time, Artie” When was the last time she had called him that? He felt like a child, he knew big boys weren't supposed to cry, but his eyes almost watered like when he was twelve “Give yourself time, Artie.” 

She carried the casserole with all the care in the world, like a baby, like she carried everything she cared about, like she had once carried him, and slowly let the water pour, little droplets falling down the plastic petals.

* * *

He had meant to get out, but instead, he had sat down and watched his mother gently and consistently clean the house, she cared for it like it was her favorite child, she didn't flake, like keeping this house clean was her last hope in life. 

It had been so early, so chilly and silent. His siblings came running down the hallways, making Mammut struts on the stairs, Baker sighed internally. 

“You got picked!?” All his siblings seemed to be speaking at the same time. His mother was down on the floor, kneeling with a towel, and a bucket full of soapy water, with bubbles coming and exploding right as they did, she looked like Cinderella, he used to think she was a real-life princess. He couldn't see her face, but her head sunk lower as his siblings asked more and more questions, he couldn't tell if she was wiping the floor with dirty water, or with her tears. 

He didn't know what to answer to any of his siblings’s questions. She kept wiping the floor, even though there was nothing left to clean.

* * *

He had gone back upstairs after listening to his siblings ask him over and over again if he was going, they looked proud and happy, his little sisters smiled up to him the very same way they did when he gave them his last piece of chocolate on Christmas, like he had done a miraculous feat, and he supposed he had done the closest to it they would ever get, his older siblings just smiled wryly, joked around, seemed content right now, they had been like that since he could last remember. 

He was in peace with it, he knew things would only get more intense as time went on, that's how it always was during the time of The Walk, like the whole world, and the constellations and whatever lied beyond, consigned themselves in agreement to expand and expand until The Walk was done, and then they exploded, and then they used the whole remaining of the year to put themselves back together, and ready themselves for the next Walk, that’s how it always was, he had lived surrounded by it everywhere on his little countryside, inside his chillingly empty house, where it seemed like it could overtake all the space he and his family ever held. 

He thought back to what Stebbins said, he thought about winning or dying, and how he was sure, while looking at Stebbins’s gone pallid and sunken in face, how he was sure Stebbins could and would win if only he was given a proper chance for it, and that scared him more than anything else, because he didn't want to see Stebbins die, but if Stebbins was going so was he.

He looked out of his window, it had turned night at some point, he didn't know when, it didn't matter when, he never slept, and much less right now.

He was so tired, and the night was so cold.

* * *

He had kept that pattern up for a while, he could feel time drawling ever so closer to him.

He had thought about Stebbins a lot while being asked a lot of questions he didn't know how to answer, and while listening to the sounds of the night, the songs of the grasshoppers, it felt like that was the language the moon spoke. 

He needed to speak with Stebbins, he wouldn't be able to make a decision until he had, and he had to make the decision as soon as he could.

The moon was still shining outside, he didn't care, he walked out of his room making no noise, he had practice on this, he could have sneaked out of the window, but he had chosen to walk out of his house through the front door for once, like most people did, like he shouldn't do, because that was for truly decent people, and not people who only knew how to do their best to appear decent. 

When he stepped outside he found a run-over rabbit waiting on his house’s sidewalk.

He kept walking.

He walked, almost blindly, but always knowing, back at the Nightriders he had made sure to implant this information down to his bones, now it seemed rather meaningless, except for one reason.

He followed an invisible trail, like a red string of fate, to the forest, to one of the tunnels entrances. He knew Stebbins was there, he had to be there.

He stopped in front of the tunnel's entrance, it was like his brain hadn't recorded any of his trajectory there, he simply was there now, he kicked it open and jumped down, he found a makeshift trail made of hands, and followed, simply followed, like a fox follows a rabbit, simply out of instinct.

“Have you made your decision yet?” Baker suddenly halted, his voice resonated through the tunnel arriving to his ears, drilling their way into his head, and into his heart, Stebbins really knew how to get to anybody, almost like a born-in talent.

  
  


Stebbins was sitting in the middle of the tunnel's entrance, mud all around him, but he was sitting on the only, very small, cement center spot, Baker realized that surprisingly the shirt wasn't that dirty at all. His hands had mud underneath the fingernails, he was looking at a makeshift childish drawing, that Baker supposed Stebbins had made for himself, Stebbins looked at him for one split second “I can tell you haven't. Why are you going to The Long Walk, Baker?” 

He made it sound like The Long Walk was a place, a state of existence on all of its own, and Baker supposed it was, why are you going there? Did he even have a real answer to that, because everything has to go there at some point, that's why, right? That should be enough of an answer, right? 

“You don't know” Stebbins sounded like he was laughing, a small noise almost escaping him through, or weeping, Stebbins always sounded on the middle of weeping, or laughing “You are sending yourself off to war, on your own two feet, and you don't know why? Do you really not know why?”

“Do you?”

“Are you asking me if I know why you are going to The Walk?” He knew that wasn't Baker’s question at all.

“Do ya?”

His lips pursed up a little, he looked feline even, like he was holding every secret of the world back between the pinkish red of his lips, and his white and lustrous canines “Maybe.”

“Are you goin’ to tell me?”

“Maybe” Stebbins began “Because you feel guilty, because you feel the weight of far too many crusades, that aren't your own at all, on your shoulders, maybe because that's a simple yet so elaborate way to say you want to die” Stebbins voice was soft and comforting, he felt like Stebbins was standing right behind him, with both of his skeletal hands on his shoulders, making circles, and whispering lovingly into his ears “Because you want to die, Baker. You want to die.”

“Everything dies” It was a simple truthful statement. 

“But most people don't want to see it happening. Or why do you think your mother has that broken clock, and those plastic flowers on your dining table?”

“Whether you want to see it or not don't really matter, at the end.”

“No, it doesn't” Stebbins granted him “But, is that really a good enough reason to accelerate the process so much?”

“Does it matter at all?”

“Do you think it doesn't matter to anybody else either?” He looked so earnest “Do you think that your life doesn't matter to anybody else who isn't you? Don't you think that such a small life would be too much of a waste?” Stebbins traced his drawing again with his eyes, as if he was trying to lose himself on it “I don't believe your life is so small at all, Art. 

“Why are you doing this?” Baker asked him, his head slightly tilted to one side, his skin forming lines around his eyes, like the mere act of seeing this view was too much for him, because it was.

“Doing what exactly? I'm only answering your questi-”

Baker interrupted him “Why are you goin’ to The Walk?”

“I believe I already answered that-”

“You believe wrong” Stebbins actually looked at him when he said that, it felt like a small victory, it also felt like he had been stung “You ain't going just because you can. You got a reason. You always got a reason for everything’.”

“Oh, Do I?” Stebbins raised one eyebrow, in faked awe “What is my reason for being here, Baker?”

“I don't know, that's why I'm askin’” Baker crossed his arms in front of his chest “Unless you don't know neither.”

“I always know what I'm doing, Baker.”

“Tell me, Stebbins. What are you doing?” He really wanted to understand, so bad.

“I am going to The Walk. I am going to win. Anything else, is none of your business.”

“It’s is my business” Baker stepped closer to him, as if that had suddenly reminded him why he was here “I'm asking you because I care, it is my business. You can't tell me to pull out and stay, if you are going! You have to tell me why you are going! You can't leave, and come back, and leave again! You can't do that forever! You might not come back this time! Stebbins, I need to know!”

“The Major is my father!” Stebbins’s voice went onto that high note it had been at last time, but now in this encapsulated space his voice fell back down on him, it resonated through the walls, through the dirt, through the Earth, and Stebbins finally seemed to hear himself, his eyes fell to the ground.

It seemed like the pressure had finally made him explode with the secret he had carried for years.

“Uh?” Baker blinked twice.

“Yeah!” Stebbins was up on his face, his teeth awkwardly clinking together, like he was trying to grin and not making it, his eyes looked so despairful “He is my father!” He seemed to be waiting for Baker to give him as just as theatrical response back.

“Uh?”

“Don't you have anything else to say, Baker?”

“I-” He blinked again “I'm sorry? What?”

“He is my father” Stebbins’s voice was trailing up to a shrill “The Major is my father” His voice was breathy, like he had just run a very long marathon, and was finally stopping, Baker wondered just how loud and fast Stebbins’s heart was beating in those moments.

“The Major?” Baker pointed at the right side like The Major was there, in a way, he supposed, The Major was everywhere, and more so if Stebbins kept yelling about him “Is your father?” He pointed with his other hand at Stebbins.

“Yes” Stebbins seemed to be settling down a little, but he was still twitching on his eyes “The Major is my father.”

“Okay” Baker nodded slowly, he was determined to do his best to understand him “How do you know this?”

“I know it” Stebbins’s eyes had gone wide again, Baker realized he was like a wild animal feeling cornered, so he tried to be as calm and gentle with him as he could.

“I'm not doubting you.”

“You are!”

“I need you to explain if you want me to understand you.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I do! I need to know!”

“Why?” He was almost whispering now, with his eyebrows furrowed, and his sharp eyes, he looked so rawly in pain “Why do you need to know it?”

“I want to help you. I need to understand you.”

“When I was younger... My Mother was squaded by him, children without other tutors get sent to orphanages, you should know that, and I grew up to be a soldier, and that's it, there's no need for a further explanation.”

Stebbins was reminded of so many other things on the spot, there were so many things he wanted to burden Baker with, but he wouldn't be weak, he would let him live, there was no need to say them, there was no need for anybody to know them, he would swallow all his secrets and carry them with him to his grave, he had made his decision a long time ago.

“I found out somewhere in between those events, where exactly, does not matter, and I won't tell you, so don't ask about it” His eyes focused again, letting the film of his lifer dissolve behind his eyelids, Baker had heard that name too, hadn't he. 

“Your name is-?” Stebbins interrupted him.

“Don't call me that. You already know who’s name is that. I dislike it a great deal” He was so used to being called anything, and everything but his name, hearing it again, from Baker’s lips out of all people on Earth, wouldn't feel right at all.

“Okay” He understood just a little, he didn't question it, if Stebbins liked being called by his last name better than by his first name, well it took him nothing to call him by his last name.

“I will join The Long Walk. I will win. And then everybody will know” He looked at Baker’s eyes, searching for any hint of predator, of enemy, of traitor on him, and not finding any, how many times had he looked for those already, and hadn't found them “Everybody will know just what sort of man they worship. That is going to be my Prize, to be taken into my father's house.”

“Why?”

“Aren't you getting tired of asking the same question over, and over again, Baker? Don't you want to stop?”

“I won't stop until you answer me.”

“And what are you going to do with that answer? What do you think you can do with it? How exactly are you going to help me?” Stebbins stopped talking, like he was a patient teacher giving him time to speak, but Baker didn't know what to answer, when was the last time he had known what to answer. 

“What a showing response” Stebbins almost looked disappointed, but relieved. Stebbins looked at the ground, he felt heartsick, his eyelashes covering his eyes like a veil “If everything you wanted was an answer to give to yourself through me, like some sort of mannequin, I'm sorry to inform you won't obtain it like this. I ended it years ago I will end it again.”

Then he left.

Baker didn't try to stop him, he knew Stebbins couldn't be stopped, if he wanted to leave, or to stay, if he wanted to, or not, if he did it, or not, it all relayed on him, Stebbins was that sort of self-sufficient person.

Baker stared at the drawing on the wall for what felt like an eternity, before going back home.

* * *

He had gone back home, he hadn't thought about it for a while, he just sat still and left time pass him by. He didn't feel like there was a whole lot for him to do, or be, or think, he didn't feel like there was a whole lot of him, his mother kept staring at him with those questioning, worried eyes, and his siblings seemed to be a little more on edge than usual, but nothing special, nothing he hadn't grown up with, nothing he couldn't leave behind.

He felt life pass him by, as it did with everything he had ever known, inside he was nothing but dusk, just like everything else on this Earth.

* * *

He woke up, though that would imply he had slept at all in the first place, in the past days.

Baker went downstairs, and sat down on the dining table, and waited for the rest of the house to wake up, the place was so silent he could have almost tricked himself into believing there was nobody else here, but the claustrophobia he carried beneath his bones wouldn't let him lie.

He had almost completely dozed off, and right at that moment, the rest woke up, they didn't question what he was doing sitting on the dining table by himself before the sun itself woke up, and Baker didn't know if he was meant to be grateful, or resentful for it, he didn't really have a reason to be either of them.

They had sat down, and patiently to wait for their breakfast. Baker had spaced off the whole time “...Right, Art!?” He hadn't heard anything else of his sister’s question, he just nodded along.

“I filled your bike up” His brother, who was putting on his car-cinema uniform, suddenly spoke up from inside the bathroom, Baker had never really liked having one of the two bathrooms right next to the kitchen “I went, and bought gas for it. Call it a gift, or a congratulations for getting in The Walk and all, wanted to tell you this earlier but you disappeared all of a sudden, as you do.”

“Yeah” Baker supposed he did disappear quite a lot “Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever” His brother finished, and got out of the house.

Baker was eager to get out of there, and ride his bike, and go very very far away from all of this, but he instead sat down, ate his breakfast, and waited for his siblings to finally get bored, and go out on their own accord, before he stood up and went to get his bike, obviously without ever looking back, obviously without making noise at all.

He got on top of the bike, heard its sweet and strong rumble, felt the engine heating up, it was the only warm thing around his house most days, and Baker hadn't forgotten how to be okay with that just yet.

Some of the right side's painting had come off when he dragged it from that cliffside Stebbins had first abandoned it on, but he didn't care about that, the blood stains never faded away.

He pulled on the handles, and was off.

He drove all the way to the forest, he didn't pay attention to the controllers, or sitting properly on the bike, he didn't wear gloves, or helmets, he didn't feel like caring. 

He was driving to somewhere, to someone, something he knew very well, without even thinking about it. He felt like he wasn't quite himself, he felt like he wasn't quite there. He drove like a ghost, he felt like one.

He took a sharp turn, he felt the wheels lump up, and down beneath him. The engine made a hollow noise.

He kept accelerating little by little, at least at the beginning, Baker felt no difference between the beginning and the end, he just kept going faster, and faster, he was used to it, he felt the longer pieces of grass get stuck on his wheels, but he just kept going and going, he took another sharp turn on one of the forest’s edges.

A small pebble broke off the insides of his black wheel, he came propulsed off the seat, he saw a golden shimmer, then everything went black. 

* * *

Stebbins had slept on the tree, it wasn't nearly as comfortable as the bed, or the barn, but it was there, and he wasn't going to let himself grow spoiled enough to not sleep on whatever was given to him. He felt a little pique at the big brown stains on the white strips of Baker’s shirt.

He felt an object coming, and immediately opened his eyes, he jumped off the tree branch, as he saw a motorcycle with Baker inside crash against the tree.

“Art?” He walked up to the bike, and placed his hand on Baker’s mouth, he was breathing, that was good. 

He placed his hands up to his face, and waited for a second to see if Baker would open his eyes but he didn't, Stebbins sighed he lowered his hands to Baker’s sides and brought him up, he carried him off the bike and laid his head on the base of the tree, he looked like he belonged there, he was sure Baker would think the same. 

Baker’s nose began bleeding, quite a galore “God, Art, What did you do?” Baker’s shirt was getting redder and brown on the lower side beneath his left rib, Stebbins raised his shirt up a bit, Baker had freckles all over his chest as well, he was sun kissed. 

“You drove yourself into a tree?” He felt a little impressed at it “Your death wish was apparent, but you had never been this direct about it” Stebbins stood up “I will have to go get water and bandages for you, I will hurry.”

Stebbins ran to the chemist shop, and basically stole the bandages and oxygenated water, before running back to the forest. 

He kneeled down to listen to Baker’s breathing, he could see his chest going up and down, but he still needed to prove it to himself even more. He pushed the shirt up again and began disinfecting the wound.

It was long, but thankfully it wasn't deep, Baker shook and flinched at the cold and stinging water, but he didn't wake up, his nose seemed to still be bleeding, but with less intensity now, Stebbins would take care of it after he was done with this.

“Pain, pain, go away” He whispered, as his hands worked.

* * *

“Art” A voice woke him up “Art” He felt a pair of soft light hands on his shoulders “Art, are you awake?” 

“Uh?”

“You say that a lot in this one, don't you?”

“Stebbins?” Baker opened his eyes a little, the sunlight blinded him immediately “Where are we?” He spoke slowly, he felt really lightheaded.

“In the forest” He saw Stebbins’s arm pointing to the three with the bullet. as if to say 'Where else are we going to be at?'.

Baker blinked twice, and finally managed to look up without the sun getting to him. He saw Stebbins's deadpan face.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Okay” He could feel the blood flowing from his head to his feet.

“That's good” Stebbins looked to his right, and reached out for something. 

“Why are you here?” Baker sunk his head lower on whatever surface Stebbins had put him in, Baker supposed it had to be grass, but it was warmer and softer than that.

“You made quite a lot of noise” Stebbins sounded rather annoyed “And I had to come” He looked down, his face was a little blushed, Baker laughed softly “Why are you laughing, Baker?”

“You look cute” Yeah, he was really lightheaded.

“You must have gotten a concussion as well, you are definitely more stupid now” Baker looked at him realizing Stebbins was awfully close. He tried to stand up and landed right back down, on the soft cushion beneath him “Don't move.”

“Where…?” Baker looked to the side, finding out his heads was resting on Stebbins’s lap.

“I had to put you there to stop the nose bleeding, don't get any strange ideas, and instead be grateful” Stebbins looked dignified to the side.

“The nose bleeding?” Baker touched his nose, it felt humid but clean, had Stebbins washed his face while he was unconscious.

“Yes, the nose bleeding. I was about to bandage your other wound.”

“What happened?” Baker touched below his ribcage, it was dirtless and wet as well, but a little bit of red was still coming out of it.

“Shouldn't you be telling me that? You are the one who crashed himself, and his beloved bike into this tree, I simply found you.” 

Baker searched desperately for his bike with his eyes, and found it still lying against the tree.

“Don't” Stebbins said “Don't move, you already saw what happened. Let me finish bandaging you up first.” 

Baker had to fight the immediate need to run beside his bike, and make sure it was okay, and instead, stowed all his weight on Stebbins’s legs.

Stebbins sighed in relief, and picked up the bandages on his right, he proceeded to roll them out, surgically like, Baker wondered how used Stebbin was to doing this to others, to himself, and applied them to Baker slowly, but consistently like a machine, really tightly without cutting off pressure, he was perfect at it.

Baker left him work, instead, he stared at Stebbins’s face, his pale complexion, and the bangs of hair falling beside his ears, his smart and concentrated eyes, Stebbins always looked far too mature, and like a lost child at the same time.

“What were you planning?” Stebbins suddenly broke the precious silence Baker had built inside his head, Stebbins's eyes didn't left his wound, and his hands never stopped working.

“I was ridin’ ma' bike” Baker meant it, he didn't really have anything else in mind. 

“I have ridden with you before, Baker. You are not that careless.”

“Everybody makes mistakes.”

“Was this a mistake?” He said it like a question, Baker knew it wasn't a question.

“It was pretty close to one.”

“Close is never enough.”

“Aren't we close?” Baker asked, looking up at Stebbins like he looked up to the painting of The Virgin at Church.

“You always make me repeat myself, Art” Stebbins’s eyes pursed, he looked fond, and tenured “Close is never enough. Not to people like us at least.”

“Wanna be closer?”

“Isn't that a question you should be asking to yourself, Baker?” Stebbins finished, he gave one last stretch to the bandages.

“You have me on my knees like I'm praying” Stebbins said, sounding theatrical, like he was reciting to the entire forest, and everything that lived, and didn't live anymore on it.

“Sorry” Baker stood up slowly, left his head, and torso rest against the tree now.

“I was worried, Art” Stebbins said “I am really worried, Art.” 

Stebbins’s legs weighted on his sides, he sat in front of him, Baker opened his eyes, Stebbins looked like he would vanish away beneath the slightest touch, so Baker didn't even dare let himself raise a hand, he felt like he was letting the dead crawl on top of him, and he knew he didn't mind, he would adore Stebbins with his hands gripping apart at his heart.

“Art” It sounded like a question, and order, and a statement, like a prayer “Art.”

“Stebbins” So he prayed back, like he had done his whole life. His wound hurt and palpitated beneath the bandages, like a second bleeding heart, like the emotional equivalent to internal bleeding.

“I don't want to see you die, Art” Stebbins placed his hands on his chest, a solid weight on all of this, and looked at him, his eyes gone, they had that childish look again, but he looked so miserable, so so miserable “I don't.”

“I don't want to see you die either” Baker knew everything had to die, and them too, but he didn't want to see it, he knew everything faded away with time, but not right now, please, I beg.

“Don't die. Don't let me see you die. I don't want to.”

“I don't want to either” Schrodinger's Casket, something is there except when it’s not. 

“If I die, does it hurt you too?” Stebbins took his hand, and placed it on top of his chest, it felt like a shot wound but there was no bullet only a hole.

“It does” He didn't dare put more pressure in it, he could only stare from afar, he could only hope Stebbins still was more person, than rabbit, or machine, or ghost, and if he touched him, he may have to learn otherwise.

“I don't want to hurt you any further” Stebbins knew he had already hurt more than enough people on this lifetime “I am sorry.”

Baker didn't know why he was apologizing, the kick, both kicks, leaving his bike, bringing it back, touching him, signing up for The Walk, everything or nothing, Baker knew people could never quite spare themselves, he had seen it far too many times, he thought he could see regret on corpse’s eyes, ashes smelt like stars sometimes.

“I forgive you” Baker said “I always forgive you.”

“Don't let me hurt you any further, Art.”

“I will forgive you still” And Baker didn't know what else to say about it, he wanted to hold Stebbins’s hair away from his eyes, see if he was crying for once, and say “It’s me. It's me. It's only me.”

“I know” Stebbins had a special certainty on him, because he knew, he knew like a man knows where the sun is, by instinct, it was a primal thing “I know it's you, I always know it's you” A certainty like I would know you without eyes, without nose, without hands, a certainty like I would know you in death.

“I know you too” Baker didn't need to know anything else about him except this, knowing Stebbins felt like knowing himself, he felt like holding his reflection in his arms, his own heart, and soul.

“You do” Almost like a question, but it wasn't, dangerously close, but it wasn't “I don't want to die, Art” And that's was the essential part here that Stebbins was alive, and he didn't want to die, and Baker wanted to be with him while he was around.

“I don't want to die either.”

Stebbins nodded, he squeezed Baker’s hand, his flesh felt cold but alive, Baker was so glad. 

“I want to stay here. I want to say here with you.”

“I want to stay here with you too.”

“Let's stay, Art” Stebbins’s almost perfect posture fell off, a big broken sigh of relief came out of him, Baker almost expected to see his breath on the air, like it was December, he wanted to be there in December, with Stebbins as well “Let's stay, Art.”

“Yes. Let’s stay here, Stebbins” Baker’s hands went up to Stebbins, he hugged him, embraced him entirely, Baker was weak just as Stebbins was, they were both cold and full of gloom, but more importantly, they were here, and that's what mattered the most in the whole world, that they were here, and they were going to stay here.

Stebbins and Baker had finally come back home, and this time they were going to stay.

Baker had never wanted to leave, he just needed a reason to stay.

* * *

They had stayed like that in silence, for way too long, Stebbins had been staring at his face, like he was trying to count the freckles running like stars on his nose and cheeks. 

“You can't count all of them, Stebbins” Baker finally spoke up, it sounded as natural as the sound of leaves on the middle of the forest. 

“Don't tell me what to do, Art” Stebbins said “I only need more time” And we can have all that time now, but of course, he didn't say that out loud, he thought it really hard, hoping Baker could know everything he wouldn't tell him out loud.

“Tell me” Baker said, without any further elaborations.

“Tell you, what, exactly, Art?”

“What you are thinking about.”

“I think about quite a lot of stuff at the same time, Art.”

“Tell me all of it.”

“The sort of things I think about, are far too heavy for other’s shoulders.”

“I want to hear it, even if it breaks my shoulders.”

“And do you really believe I would tell you, while knowing it will break you?” He sounded like he was asking an obvious rhetorical question, and it was obvious, Baker knew he wouldn't, he wouldn't tell him anything that could hurt him unless he was hurt, even if that meant being swallowed, and eaten alive by his own thoughts.

“Tell me one thing you are thinking.”

“Only one?”

“Or as many as you want?”

“I was thinking about that bullet” He pointed up to the tree, and the golden bullet shining on it “And about you” He pointed to his bike “And about your motorcycle” Stebbins left his head drop a little further into the roots of the tree “And about so many things.” 

“Tell me more things.”

“Are you sure you want to know so many things? Loading your brain with too much information at once is no good, Art.”

Baker chuckled, feeling a little pain on his sides.

“Don't do that. It's also no good for the wound.”

“It's good for me.”

“Speaking like you, and the wound aren't part of the same organism.”

“Tell me.”

“So persistent” Stebbins slowly, and gently shook his head from side to side and thought about things he could stand to tell Baker, he felt like if he said too much, revealed too much, he would break apart, all the little pieces that made him would fall apart and out of reach, and he would become nothing but dusk and a husk, more than he already was, he supposed. 

“I was thinking: You need to rest, and not move, so you can ride your motorcycle again.”

“Where to?”

“First of all: Back to your home, you need to rest in a safer place than here, in the middle of the woods.”

“Do I have to?” Baker had a pained smile, that somehow Stebbins thought had nothing to do with his injury. Stebbins waited for Baker to finish, even after it seemed like he didn't want to say anything else “It's too familiar. I don't wanna go.”

“Where do you want me to take you?”

“Anywhere as long as you are there.”

“You shouldn't say that sort of things so freely, you may grow to regret those words, Art.”

“Maybe, but I don't think I will.”

“Maybe” Baker was growing sleepier again, his eyelids suddenly, and yet slowly closing in on himself “I will take you somewhere else, and you better don't complain.”

And Baker was asleep.

* * *

Stebbins finished dragging the motorcycle inside the barn, when Baker’s eyes opened again.

“Finally” Stebbins walked up to him. He had carried Baker here himself, made sure he didn't wake up on the way, gone back and gotten more bandages, water, and some painkillers he couldn't have gotten while Baker was still bleeding out, in case they needed it, and left him resting against the burnt black barn wall. Stebbins felt like this was the only place they always ended up coming back to, like ghosts haunting it even when it was now almost gone. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty” He looked through the window “Or good night sleeping beauty, more fittingly.”

“Night, Stebbins” He waved at him, he felt a little better he supposed. He was going to say something else but Stebbins spoke first.

“Have this” Baker put his hand out and Stebbins left something fall on top of them, they were the painkillers “I could have given them to you while you were unconscious but I supposed you would prefer this.” 

“Thank you for the considerations” Baker said, Stebbins passed him a water bottle and he swallowed them.

“You are welcome” Stebbins approached the bike again “When you can move properly, we will fix this, because you have to take me somewhere” Baker nodded, yes he did, he had to take the both of them somewhere to do something really important.

Stebbins placed a hand on the smudged paintings, it created white lines that looked like thunder on it. He looked with so much precision at it, Baker almost believed he cared for it too. 

Stebbins sighed and walked back to him, he gently sat down, and the wood made a cracking noise accompanied by a hissing like it was still burning like it was always going to be burning but Baker didn't feel the need to stand up and run away at all, he was pleased with sitting here and slowly burning away so as long as he wasn't the only one, so as long as it wasn't dark, he was fine.

“Do you pretend to stay here until you recover?” Stebbins finally spoke up after playing with his nails and staring at Baker for what felt like an eternity.

“Do you plan to stay here until I recover?”

“You are unbelievable, Art” He said “You are unbeatable, Art.”

“No more than you, Stebbins.”

“Of course. Never more than me.”

“Never.”

“Ever” Stebbins whispered, his eyes look so tired.

“You should sleep too.”

“Didn't I already tell you to not tell me what to do?”

“Somebody gotta before you collapse” Baker thought about it “Again” Stebbins looked down at that, there was a very small almost imperceptible smile on his lips, he felt some sort of childish pride at it. 

“Last time I only accepted because you had a warm bed.”

“I have a warm shoulder this time.”

“Unbelievable, you sense of adaptability and acceptance, is unbeatable” Stebbins could see why he had been picked to participate on The Walk, he had seen it since the first time they met.

“So...?” Baker offered him his shoulder.

“This is not good for your injury.”

“Is there anything good for my injury here?”

Stebbins looked at himself “No.” 

“You look like ya could fall dead any second.”

“I feel that way too” Stebbins thought about it one more time, it was stupid, like everything he had done up until that point like everything he was going to continue doing and he was so cold and Baker was so warm.

Stebbins slowly but surely lowered his head to Baker’s shoulder and left it to rest there, he shut close his eyes, he didn't want to look at this scene, he didn't want to look so weak.

“Yeah, you have a warm shoulder” Stebbins’s voice tickled his neck, but he held the laughter in, instead he just looked at him, he could hear the harmonica’s music bounced off the walls and onto them, like they said the angels did when a hero died. 

The moons hone upon them, Baker had always found the burning smell so pleasant.

Stebbins breathed softly again, and Baker knew he had fallen asleep.

* * *

They had stayed there for some days, until Baker was able to stand up on his own, he felt a little bad about making Stebbins run back and forth so much to get more painkillers and other stuff, but no matter how many times he told Stebbins he didn't need them, Stebbins would dismiss him and go get them regardless.

Baker walked up to the bike and examined it, the painting didn't actually matter a lot, but they definitely had to change both wheels, they had holes growing ever bigger on the bottom, and Baker would make sure to check the engine, the pedals, and handles worked properly still, and if they didn't, they would fix them. 

Baker looked at Stebbins, and they nodded to each other.

* * *

Stebbins came in rolling a wheel, Baker followed him carrying the other, they had checked the engine and pedals, they still worked, rather rummy though, and the engine made noise Stebbins said gave him migraines, but they worked, Baker just had to tweak them a little and they would go back to their former glory, even back when it had been given to him it wasn't all that perfect, so Baker was satisfied enough. 

Now they only needed to change the wheels and they could be on their way.

They kneeled down in front of the wheel, Baker brought out the tools, a few levers and things of the sort. 

“Why did you make me sneak inside your house for them instead of going yourself, Baker?” Stebbins had to sneak in through the window and search for them all over Baker’s room.

“You didn't have to sneak in.”

“Was I simply meant to knock on your door, and ask for permission to go to your room, without you being around?”

“You could have done it.”

“Quiet you.”

Baker raised a hand, then made a zipper-like motion in front of his lips, he proceeded to remove and change the tires.

They stood back up.

“Is it working properly?” Stebbins said, looking down at it.

“Only one way to find out” Baker knew by logic it had to work, but life tended to dismiss logic a lot.

He stood to the right side and pulled the handles, the engine made a rusty noise but it seemed to be going fine, the smoke was forming slightly thicker and faster than usual.

“Good enough” Through and through Baker was happy of still having his bike.

“Thankfully” Stebbins said, then looked at Baker sternly “We need to go, before it's too late” The sun was already setting.

“Yes” Baker looked down at the bike, and then back up at Stebbins.

Baker got up first and Stebbins followed him, they rode off the barn and into the deeper parts of the forest. 

“I didn't know you could ride too, Stebbins” Baker spoke up to be heard through the engine.

“There's a lot about me you wouldn't even suspect, Baker.”

“Like what?”

“If I told you, I would have to kill you” And how truthful that was made Baker a little bit uncomfortable “And I don't want that to happen, just yet.”

“I'm glad” Baker said, speaking with his accent. They chased the sunset down to town.

* * *

They stopped in front of the street they had been at last time, the black cat was meowing up, to something on a rooftop that they couldn't see.

“The phone booth” Stebbins said, Baker gulped down, and saw his knuckles getting whiter, he was pressing with way too much strength into the handles, he breathed out and they stepped off the bike. 

They walked up to the booth, Stebbins went before him, walking steadily and without missing a beat his face unreadable, he looked like a man on a mission.

Stebbins reached inside his shoes to pull out the money, but Baker interrupted him to it.

“Stebbins, c’me here” Baker spoke to him, a small smile on his lips, he didn't want this to be such a grim moment, he didn't want this to be like any other moment.

Stebbins raised and eyebrow, Baker put one hand beneath his ear, every time they were this close he realized how much he had grown, made one quick sleeve moment, and then brought his hand back to where Stebbins could see it, with just the right amount of coins they needed to make the call they were about to.

Stebbins looked at them and at him with wide curious eyes, the eyes that held all sea life and space on them, terrible and beautiful, he wanted to know how many awful things Stebbins had seen with those same big innocent eyes. 

Stebbins seemed to come back to his senses “That must be one of the oldest tricks on the book.”

Baker remembered softly “Yeah, it’s one of the first I learned.”

“When did you get the coins? Is that why you send me off to sneak into your house, Art?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets” Baker winked at him.

“You will have to show them all to me” Stebbins said “Once we are done.”

“Yes” Baker held the coins and felt his resolve strengthening “When we are done, I show ‘em all to you” He turned to the booth “I go first” Stebbins nodded while, barely mouthing the words, 'thank you', Baker appreciated them as if they were the grandest things he's ever heard, he knew for Stebbins they were.

Baker saw the coins slide inside the rabbet, and waited for the metallic clicking noise before typing the 801 number.

Stebbins turned around, giving him privacy, like he was guarding him, he felt like that's what he was doing. He waited until Baker was done, he forced himself to not listen to the conversation, he hoped Baker would do the same.

“That’s it” Baker said, and stepped off the booth. Stebbins turned back, they nodded at each other, it was like they didn't even need words anymore, like they were saving them up exclusively for this moment.

Stebbins stepped inside the booth, he had been tracing the surface of the coins with his fingertips. He put them in and called the number. He didn't feel the words like his own, maybe they weren't, they were Baker’s wishes, he was only speaking them, but he had decided that it was worth it.

He barely heard whatever the receptionist said. He hung up.

“I did it” He said holding up his hand, as if to prove that he had really used the coins just now, he needed Baker to know he had truly done it.

“We did it” Baker put his hand on top of Stebbins’s “We did it” Stebbins found it adorable, how bright his accent sounded.

Stebbins caressed Baker’s hands with his fingers, Baker brought his wrist up to his mouth and kissed it, just like Stebbins had done all those years ago. 

Stebbins felt his veins quavering, and throbbing, his entire body beating. He breathed out, he could finally breathe. Right here, right now, there was nothing in the world he, and that man had in common.

He could finally, finally breathe.

There were so many other things left to do now, maybe they would go back to that train and run away into the sunset and never see anything that was familiar ever again, but right now, right now, they could allow themselves this, with Baker’s lips on his skin he was sun kissed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Cried????? While!!?? Making This?????? For some reason!!!???


End file.
